#daniel sharman fanfiction

[teenwolfpackincorrectcaptions]

Stiles: When have I ever done something rash or irresponsible?

Derek: I keep a list.

Erica: Mine’s in order of date.

Boyd: Severity.

Isaac: Mine's colour coded.

(source)

#teen wolf #mieczysław stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski #derek hale #tyler hoechlin #erica reyes #gage golightly #vernon boyd #sinqua walls #isaac lahey #daniel sharman #source: celestialvoid fanfiction

[themuselesswriter]

If you’re wondering where I disappear, I’m writing a fanfic about cursed:’) and it’s not over until now which is crazy.

#fanfics #fanfiction #museless memes #renew cursed #cursed lancelot #netflix cursed #nimue cursed #gawain #squirrel #the green knight #the weeping monk #lady of the lake #daniel sharman

[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : The Last Flames Burn Together

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Summary: You were one of the many Feys trying to seek refugee from the cleansings across the lands. When you finally find the carriages that smuggle Feys to Gramaire, safety seems closer than ever.

Notes: I would miss writing for this character way too much tbh. The summary is vague to avoid spoilers lol

Warnings: Violence, death, strong language. Spicy (?). No descriptive smut but spoken off.

Word Count: 7K

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The day after your Fey camp had been cleansed, you had began your search for them.

The carriages that led the Fey to the safety of Gramaire.

After trying to get information from locals at a village, it seemed near impossible to find out where these carriages picked up Feys who sought refugee.

It was difficult to know who to trust when in the village, you often listened in on conversations between Manbloods to hear if they spoke of the Fey or not. Very few did and not all of them spoke kindly of your people.

You followed those who did, hiding under the cover of your cloak until there was a good moment to seek a conversation.

And after two days in the village, a young couple told you that three carriages arrived in the village every few days just before the sun would rise.

The riders of these carriages where by most believed to be traders of herbs and spices, but their carriages had room for more than that.

And so you found yourself waiting outside, eyes and ears sharp to avoid detection by paladins.

Most of the villagers were still asleep, the rooster not even awake himself.

You clutched the cloak around you, shielding yourself from the morning’s frost.

The sound of hooves reached your ears, three carriages halted at a distance.

Spices and herbs were being off-loaded and handed to locals who traded their own wares for it.

With fear and hope you approached and walked passed the first carriage, the rider of the carriage in the middle was the only one not loading off wares.

Perhaps what he had with him were not wares…

He had seen you approach him and simply asked “Going anywhere, miss ?”

Your tongue was braver than how you felt “Depends. Where are you heading with your wares, sir ?”

There was a slight tug at the corner of his mouth “Gramaire. And you ?”

You gave a nod, hoping to receive a sign that he would help you get there too.

The rider shared a knowing look “Hop in.”

With a grateful nod, you went to the carriage door, it was locked from the inside and after knocking, the door opened to reveal three Feys already present inside.

A Snake clan woman, a Tusk and Sky Folk man met your face.

After seating yourself next to the Tusk man, you closed and locked the carriage door again.

All three smiled at you warmly, everyone there was hoping for the same thing, to find safety.

There was quiet chitchat between you while the carriages traveled through the forest to Gramaire.

The woman told you that in the other carriages there were even more Feys, at least fifteen were accounted for between the three carriages.

The riders would stop in one more village tonight to see if there were more Feys who needed a ride, so the carriage you were in would probably not remain as ‘empty’.

The Sky Man asked about your family, you informed him that your mother had been Sky Folk and that neither of your parents had survived the Red Paladin’s invasion years ago.

He apologized for his questioning, you waved the apology away, he had not been the first to ask.

When the carriage halted, all four of you waited for other Feys to get into the carriage.

The windows were covered and you could not see outside, or see where you were.

You would never forget that moment of calmness before it was taken away so abruptly.

Shouting was heard coming from outside, the rider was answering to someone.

Then the carriage suddenly moved forward, the horses were spurred into gallop and you and the Tusk Man nearly fell from your seats.

The carriage stopped just as abruptly again mere seconds later.

It was then that the chaos started, the sound of panicking horses and a fight breaking out told that this carriage was no longer safe.

The Sky Man looked behind the window’s cover and saw other Fey running for their lives “It’s the paladins ! They killed the rider !”

That was all that need to be said for those in your carriage to open the door and try to flee as well.

Of course you got out, but the brutality around you was causing a panic all around.

Left and right, your people were being captured and killed.

With no idea on where to run or what to do, you got low and crawled under the carriage to hide and await a better moment to escape.

Some were able to flee into the woods, others perished at the hands of the paladins.

The sound of steel cutting through skin was one you hated to hear.

Close to your left, a Moon Wing laid on the grass, gasping for air.

A slow death, until…

A sword was sunk into the Moon Wing’s chest, ending their suffering, then removed again.

A pair of boots walked by and you pressed your mouth shut, barely daring to breath.

A paladin approached “Some fled into the woods, Brother.”

The man wearing the boots commanded “Find them.”

The paladin rushed off with some of the other red bastards to hunt down those who had fled.

The boots walked past the carriage you were under and towards the other carriages. Only when they reached the furthest carriage did you see who owned them.

The Weeping Monk was commanding the paladins.

Oh no…

You had to get out of there before the bastard found you.

A quick glance around the place and you saw a horse nearby.

If they found you, you would meet a gruesome end.

If you escaped… if there was still a chance to survive…you had to take it.

You quietly crawled to the other side, got from under there and hid behind the carriage.

After risking a look or two past the carriage, you scrambled together all your courage and darted for the horse.

Before reaching it, you nearly tripped over the remains of the Sky Man you had been talking to just minutes ago.

The shouting of paladins alerted you that they had spotted you. Without looking in their direction, you mounted the horse.

When you rode off, a paladin took aim with a bow and you feared being struck by the arrow.

The Monk pushed against the bow right when the arrow was let loose “Hold!”

It could have killed Goliath. He watched the arrow scrape the horse’s hind leg.

This could not be happening, a Fey girl had just stolen his own horse!

   You did not stop and galloped through the woods as fast as the horse could go.

And fast the black steed was.

An hour had past before the horse showed signs of being tired, you continued in a walking pace for a while before finally dismounting.

Only then did you notice the blood on the horse’s hind leg. It immediately caused a feeling of guilt in you, the poor animal had been wounded.

After tying his reins to a tree, you searched around the place for the basic herbs needed to treat the wound.

Luckily you found them and put them on a large fallen leaf you had found.

Then you tore off your sleeves to make a bandage to bind the mixture of herbs to the wound.

You also found a collection of weapons on the saddle. An axe, a knife, a dagger or two. There was even rope to be found.

It was amazing how calm the horse was. Could it sense that you meant no harm ?

After an hour of treating the wound, you let the horse rest and walked beside him instead.

You walked for hours, unwilling to stop before the sun was down out of fear that the paladins might find you again.

Needless to say, by the time night fell, you were exhausted.

A single flask of water was found in the saddle bag of the horse, which you took and filled at a river you took camp next to.

The horse drank from the river for quite some time, he must have been quite thirsty after all that effort.

You petted the steed’s neck, even finding yourself talking to him “It’s going to be alright. I promise. I’m sorry your leg hurts, I’ll help you get better, I swear it.”

Often he looked back at you as if you were somewhat familiar to him.

For the first time since long, a genuine warm smile grew “How did you end up with those red drapes, hm ? Did they steal you ? I bet they did.”

As you spoke to the horse, you did not realize it’s original rider was close enough to hear.

From the shadows of the trees behind you, a figure emerged “I bought him. Unlike you.”

Turning on your heels, the darkness of night cloaked the man who spoke.

Still, the outline of his form was enough to determine who had found you now.

There was an attempt to mount the horse again, it failed miserably when he grabbed and made you fall on your back to the ground.

The lack of light made this so much more frightening, you doubted even he could see much.

A kick was aimed at his leg by you, in return he grabbed your arm and roughly pulled you from the ground.

Your forehead collided hard with his chin, punishing him for it.

Still he refused to let go, his grasp faltering only a bit, but not enough to break free.

And you refused to be killed without a fight.

A punch was the next thing you gave, he responded by slamming your back against an oak tree, pinning you to it by the throat.

At the sound of steel being drawn, your will to fight almost left you.

And then…nothing.

The Monk had halted his fight, but you could sense that the sword was near your stomach.

The light of the moon was on the oak tree and made your face visible to his eyes.

Those markings… it could not be.

A cloud moved out of the moon’s way and for the first time in your life, you saw the face of the Grey Monk.

After all this time, you finally understood why so many had questions about your family.

The memories of your father were slowly fading, but you could never forget the markings of the Ash Folk he had carried beneath his eyes.

And now you were faced with the Weeping Monk who had them too.

It could not be…

Your markings were far less noticeable and lighter of color than his own, but they were there.

He had never seen another like him, not as far as he could still remember.

He stared at you as much as you stared at him.

It had always been believed that the Ash Folk were extinct, and now here you were.

You couldn’t hide your shock “Your eyes…”

The recognition was unmistakable, you knew he was of Fey descent.

By the moonlight’s help, he discovered not just your Fey markings but also that your sleeves had been torn from your attire.

One look at Goliath explained where they were now.

There was no point in running, if he was indeed like your father a full blooded Ash Man, he would be able to track you down just by your scent.

Father would want to know of your existence.

Even he himself was curious whether a woman of the Ash Folk had the same abilities as him. Father had not been happy with his failure to capture the Wolf Blood Witch, this would certainly please him.

The Monk had his sights on your markings “What are you ?”

When you didn’t answer he brought the sword to your throat, only than did you speak “I am Sky Folk, you rotten bastard !”

There was an arrogant arch of his brow aimed at that answer “What else ?”

You spat in his face in return “Not a traitor like you !”

There was so much fight burning in you.

He did not flinch when the saliva drops hit his face “But you are a thief.”

You were pulled away from the tree, sword still resting against your throat when he led you to the horse.

His horse.

Instead of killing you, he bound your hands with the rope that had been hanging from the saddle.

When that was done, he inspected the bandaged hind leg of the horse “Did you do this ?”

The answer was sharp “Do you see anyone else here ?”

For someone bound by rope and at his mercy, you were behaving quiet brave.

The Monk send you a look, pulling you back to his side when still feeling you try to get away “Answer my question.”

A jab in his side with your elbow followed and he wrapped his hand around your throat again.

He repeated the question while also gesturing to the black steed “Did you do this ?”

Your nails dug into his wrist “Yes !”

Finally he let go off your throat and proceeded to drag you along to fetch the horse he had used to find you.

He bound the reins of the white horse to the black one. Then tied the other end of your rope to the saddle of his horse.

Wait… was he going to let you walk after him ?!? Why wasn’t he killing you ?

He must have seen the angry glare you were sending him, because he proposed an agreement “I am taking you with me. Either you come willingly, or I will pull you along while you walk. What shall it be ?”

A loud scoff was what his absurd question earned him “Willingly ?!?”

He took that as a ‘no’ and went to mount Goliath.

After walking the whole damned day already, your feet were hurting and now this monk was going to pull you along while he rode the horse.

Fantastic, this day could not get worse.

You were far too stubborn to ask and just tried to hide your pouting at the prospect of having to walk who-knows-where again.

He rode for a short distance, leaving you to follow or be dragged along by the rope, before suddenly stopping again.

You swore you’d heard him sigh, like he was the one who had a reason to be annoyed.

There was a tug at the rope and soon you found yourself being reeled in towards him.

When he looked down upon your face, the Monk received the unyielding glare reserved only for him.

He looked up ahead, eyes on the trees, it sounded like it took some effort “I will ride for the rest of the night. Unless you decide to cooperate.”

Your stubbornness persisted “Or you could just kill me and drag my corpse along. I think it would be faster, I might not be rotting by the time you arrive at your destination.”

The bluntness of that statement made him look at you again.

His mouth opened and then closed in a thin line again.

This time he did not look away from you “Father will want to see you alive.”

That power hungry red priest ? What would he want with you “Why ?”

He refused to answer your question “I am offering one more chance for you to come willingly. Choose wisely.”

A silence fell between you.

You gravely disliked having to yield to him, but you also disliked how tired your legs were “Are you going to drape me over your horse like a sack if I say yes ?”

The tug at his mouth was hidden when he looked away “If you prefer.”

That didn’t sound appealing in the slightest and you stubbornly stood your ground.

Then you felt him tug at the rope again, pulling it up and with that your bound hands as well.

The Monk took hold of one your wrists “Come on. Up.”

The moment you did get on the horse and were seated in front of him, a dagger was drawn and held close to your side.

A warning was given by him while leaning in “Try to escape, and I will hurt you.”

You dared to glare back, biting the insult at him “Bastard.”

He leaned back again, expression unreadable.

Without warning he spurred the horse into gallop and so began the journey to Father Carden.

  ooOOOooOOOoooOOOoo

  All those rotten paladins, who were still awake, were gawking in your direction when the Monk arrived with you in their camp.

He dismounted first, then surprisingly helped you get off of the horse too.

Your attention went to his hands and how they restlessly fumbled with the rope he was leading you along with.

Upon arriving at a large tent, the Monk walked in.

There you were faced with the priest who was causing so much suffering across the lands.

Father Carden had been speaking with some older paladins, his focus went to the Monk before it went to you “What is this ?”

The Monk took you by the arm and moved you forward.

All those years ago, Father must have seen enough markings of the Ash Folk clan to see the resemblance with yours.

Father Carden dismissed the paladins “Leave us.”

They hurried passed you out of the tent and the priest approached while staring at you.

There was joy on his face “Where did you find this girl, my son.”

The Monk left out some parts of it “In one of the carriages that were smuggling Fey.”

“Is she what I think she is ?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Are you sure ?”

“Yes, Father. She is of the Ash Folk.”

You were left very confused as to why this seemed to make the priest happy.

But the priest had good reason to be pleased with your existence. Years ago he had chosen only one child of the Ash Folk and regretted not choosing another.

His Weeping Monk had become his sword of light, if he had known this in the past he surely would have left more children of the Ash Folk alive to raise for serving the Church’s mission.

Father Carden saw a rare opportunity, his Weeping Monk and a girl, perhaps it was not too late to rectify the lack of Ash Folk offspring to serve the Church.

The priest went over to the Monk and placed his hands on the Monk’s shoulders “You have done well, My son.”

He had not seen Father look so pleased in weeks.

Still, he did not know what would be expected now “What must be done with her, Father.”

Father Carden was already planning everything in his mind “She will be brought to the monastery where she will be kept under watch. There they will make sure that our newest hope does not flee.”

You didn’t know what to think and questioned out loud “What do you mean with ‘hope’ ?”

The priest smiled wickedly “We have many plans for you, girl.”

It had sounded so patronizing “Girl ? I have a name !”

Hearing you snap at him wiped that stupid grimace from his face.

He looked at the Monk expectantly, who had no idea what your name was either.

He had not asked, it was not common to ask for the names of those he captured or killed, it would make matters more personal than needed be.

Father Carden did not show genuine interest “Who are you then ?”

You arched a brow, a smug smirk plastered on your face.

It was only when the Monk gave a warning nudge to your arm that you told them what your name was “It’s y/n. Now tell me why I am being held captive !”

The defiance was met with a threat by the priest “You will understand soon. You would do well to do what is asked off you, it could become very unpleasant for you otherwise.”

Red Paladins were called into the tent again and the Monk was told to hand you over to them.

Why was it giving him the feeling that something about all of this was wrong ?

What was Father not telling him ?

The command was given by the priest “Take her away. She will travel to the monastery early tomorrow.”

They weren’t gentle when they pulled you out of the tent, the last thing you saw of the Monk were those weeping eyes that carried a hint of remorse that you believed to be only in your imagination.

He turned to Father after you were removed from the tent “Why is the girl being brought to the monastery, Father ?”

Hope… that was what Father had called you.

But why ?

He knew Father had always wanted to know whether other Ash Folk still existed or not, but why was he so pleased about it ? Was the cleansing of all Fey clans not the ultimate goal ?

He had believed Father would interrogate you further at least, perhaps he would have learned more of his heritage as well.

But that did not seem to be Father’s plan for you.

Father knew his monk would have question “We have important matters to discuss, my son.”

   oooOOoOOOoOoooOOo

  You had tried to escape countless times, but Father Carden had made certain that fleeing was impossible.

The door of the room was constantly guarded outside, the window was nailed shut from the outside too. The only light in the bland room was those of candles placed around the place.

For the tenth day after being brought to their musty monastery, you sat on the floor next to the bed and played with the fire of one of the candles.

Many years ago you had done the same with green flames, Fey Fire.

After the slaughter of your clan, the Fey Fire had vanished alongside it, like one could not existed without the other. Tales spoke of one remaining green flame, but no one knew where to find it.

It would burn as long as there is hope.

If it truly was just a rumor, than hope was long lost for the Fey.

But that did not mean that they would not continue their fight until the bitter end.

If the Church wanted to control these lands, they would have to bring everything to the war they had started.

Perhaps that one flame would fade when the last of the Ash Folk did too.

You let the candle fire lick your fingertips, feeling only a tingling sensation as the flame turned into tiny ashes before it could even touch your skin.

Fire had no power over your clan, you turned the flames into ashes.

The place was boring and you still did not understand what they wanted with you.

Every morning you were brought a bucket of water to clean yourself with and during the day you received meals.

It was odd.

Why did they bother keeping you alive ? Why were you important ?

The sound of the door unlocking no longer fazed you, your attention never left the flame.

Boots hit the wooden floorboards, only taking a few steps into the room before the door was closed again.

Little by little, you lifted your eyes from the flame and met those of the Monk “Are you finally here to kill me or are they waiting for me to be bored to death ?”

Ten days had past since he last saw you, ten full days and you had remained just as angry at him.

It was impressive.

It had taken him so long to collect the courage to come here. He had tried to avoid it, but Father would no longer listen to excuses.

He stepped closer, dropping his sights to the flame that always threatened but never burned your skin “You are too valuable to kill, y/n.”

Your attention left the flame and you rose from the ground “Valuable ? To whom ?”

The Monk stated the truth “To your clan.”

A bitter laugh escaped you “The Ash Folk are gone, Monk. We’re the only ones left.”

Again he took a step closer “And that is what makes you so valuable.”

You could just sense that he was dancing around the truth “Why the hell are you here ?”

He began with confidence “Father has decided…” and lost it when finishing the sentence “…that to ensure the continuation of the Ash Folk, we shall be wed.”

Did…

Did he just…

With a large step, you backed away from him “What did you just say ?!?”

This was as shocking and difficult to him as it was to you. He did not even know you.

But Father was demanding this and refusing would cost him everything he had fought for, including the respect of Father.

He need to do what was necessary and serve the Church.

The Monk tried to step closer again but you looked seconds away from trying to flee “We are a chance to prevent your clan from going extinct.”

For a moment you just felt rooted to the floor, this was why they were keeping you here…

You were so shocked to hear it that you didn’t fully register him getting closer again.

He actually took the risk and placed a hand tentatively on your shoulder.

You recoiled from the touch and pushed him away roughly, then bolted for the door in the hope that it was unlocked.

It was not, the door did not budge.

For the first time since long, tears streamed down your face at the prospect of being forced to marry this monk.

You kept pulling at the door with all your strength, desperate to flee, screaming for those outside to let you out off there.

Suddenly two arms locked you in their hold, ending your attempts.

Of course you tried to break free of the Monk’s hold on you “Let go off me !!! LET GO !”

His grip did not loosen and it was terribly unexpected when he proceeded to hush you “Do not be afraid. I will not harm you.”

The jab you gave him in the side with your elbow made him groan in pain.

Was this the woman who was to be his wife ?

After struggling against him for more than a minute, you started to lose the energy.

He gave it another try to calm you down, voice close to your ear “You do not have to fight, not with me.”

How could he sound so calming to you ?

You were more than a little bitter “The vow of celibacy is forgotten quickly, it seems. The Church bends the rules when they do not fit their purpose. You’re just going to use me like a brood mare.”

He hated the description “That is what Father wishes. Not I.”

You were trying to piece together the truth about it all “What do you want then ?”

Again he risked to caress your shoulder “I cannot refuse to wed you. But I can promise not to share your bed, as long as you do not tell anyone, no one will know.”

You tried to convince him, calmer this time “Please, let go off me.”

This time he did, he even took a small step back to give you space.

Turning quickly, you faced him again “I don’t even know your name. All I know is that they call you the ‘Weeping Monk’. And that you are like me, my clan…”

It took a while for him to speak “A long time ago, my name was Lancelot. I was brought to Father, when I was a child. I was spared from the cleansing and in return I serve those who have granted me a chance to earn salvation.”

He had been stolen from your clan when he was a child ?

You weren’t going to make it sound like this was not a terrible thing “They stole you from our people. And now they are doing the same with me.” there was a bitter scoff “Are they going to twist my mind about the Fey too ?”

The Monk remained quiet and began to walk around the room a bit.

It was obvious that he was not very willing to speak of the matter. So you decided to ask him another question “Why does Father Carden want more Ash Folk ?”

He parroted the words Father had told him “Their abilities would help the Church’s mission.”

It came out sharp “Our children would be weapons, like you !”

It silenced him like a knife to the heart.

‘Like you’…

It was the cold hard truth.

All he prayed for was the chance to raise any children he might have with the love of a Father that he had not received himself.

This was his duty, the personal task Father had bestowed on him, there was no escaping it.

Not unless he lost everything in return.

But that did not mean that his children would be treated as he had been.

He leaned against the wall “You are the first Ash Folk I have seen since the cleansing that brought me to Father. A child of Sky and Ash…” carefully he breached the subject “If we were to indeed have children, we would no longer be the last of our kind. Is that not something you would want ?”

You gave a jab to his ego and confidence “You believe your seed is strong enough to ensure any children would be Ash Folk and not Sky Folk ?”

Right away, he averted his eyes.

Such manner of speaking was not something he was used to.

His voice was quieter “My parents were full blooded.”

Alright…if that was indeed the case then any children he produced would be born with the Ash Folk markings and abilities.

The blood of the Ash Folk ran stronger than any other clan.

With arms crossed over your chest, you spoke “If this wedding is unavoidable, so be it. But I won’t let you anywhere near my bed. Find someone else to carry your children.”

There was a shallow nod “Can I expect you to be discreet with this ? I cannot stop this union, but I can ignore to tell Father that a consummation will not take place. You will be safe and I will have nothing to answer for.”

An agreement that benefited both. You had your life and he would not be bothered by the Red Priest.

In time, if patient, a chance to flee would arise again.

Smugly you promised “You have my word. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them we are very eagerly trying to conceive.”

Again the Monk looked quite stunned by your brash way of speaking.

He cleared his throat and headed for the door “The ceremony takes place tomorrow evening. I shall be here again.”

You saw him look at you as if he expected a goodbye, instead you turned around and ignored him.

The door quietly closed and you heard it be locked again.

Tomorrow everything would change, but if you played along, things could be turned to your advantage.

   oOOoOOOoOooOOooOOo

   The hasty wedding ceremony could not be called ‘romantic’ at all. You were made to wear a dress that was too long and dragged over the floor. Gods, you missed your comfortable trousers fit for running when needed. There was the usual vows that they just forced you to repeat after them.

Then, when they required the ceremony to be sealed with a kiss, the two paladins holding you by the arms shoved you right in front of the Monk.

Your neutral expression changed and became one of anxiousness.

And when you finally looked at his face, you saw the same.

This had to be done…

The wait felt long, the Monk appeared far more anxious about this than you.

It made you feel pity for him, it was starting to become clear that he was forced into this too.

He was the Weeping Monk, but he was also Fey and one of the last two of your clan…

Perhaps there could be a way to bond with him over this whole ordeal.

He was still hesitating to seal the ceremony and you asked the paladins, politely for once, to let go off your arms.

Of course they refused, but the Monk gave it a moment of thought and then commanded them to let go.

For the first time in days you were not being restraint by paladins or a locked room.

And by The Hidden, the pity you felt for the man in front of you was what stopped you from running.

When you took another step closer to him, the paladins got ready to grab you again, which he prevented with one simple look.

You placed your hands on the Monk’s shoulders, pulling at them somewhat to steer him.

It was meant to be a quick peck to seal the ordeal, but when your lips touched his…

What was it that made him give in to it ?…

Was it when your breath warmed his lips ?

Or when you held on to his shoulders more ?

He only came back to his senses when he could feel his markings threaten to respond to the kiss that he did not expect to want.

With a hand on your elbow, he moved you backwards.

The seal was given.

Your gaze did not leave the floor again until the ceremony was completely over.

Again the paladins took hold of you and made certain you would not run.

Father Carden showed himself only to speak to the Monk, briefly telling him again what was expected of him no doubt.

The talking paladins around you made it impossible to overhear them, all you saw was that the Monk avoided looking at the priest.

Shame… there was shame.

You were walked back to the room you had spend days in already, only when almost at the room did the Monk catch up with the paladins escorting you.

At the sight of him and his signal, they handed you over to him.

With a nod from the Monk, they opened the door for you and he let you walk into the room first.

Only when the door was shut behind you again did he let go off your arm.

Creating a distance between you and him was the first thing you did.

There was a reason why he was with you in the room now.

You confronted him “He expects you to bed me. Doesn’t he ?”

It was what Father had indeed told him to do.

The Monk sounded honest “He does. I do not.”

You moved one of the candles in the room “If I tell you to leave. They’ll know nothing happened or think that you are just…quick.”

For the first time, there was a scoff that sounded like a chuckle “It would be best for both of us if we act the part. Allow me to stay for a while ?”

With a gesture around you, you told him “Make yourself at home, oh wait… this is your home, is it not ?”

Again he ignored the sarcasm.

You sat down on your bed, barely hiding the pout “I’d always thought that my wedding would be something very different.”

He shared that opinion “What would it have been like, if you could have chosen ?”

With a shrug of the shoulders, you admitted “I don’t know… I had hoped it would be romantic at least. Not this.”

Romantic ? It was a fair expectation to have.

The Monk picked a candle up from the floor, the one you had been playing with yesterday.

He stopped in front of you, then with caution, took place next to you.

You didn’t move away and he turned a bit to face you.

The candle was held out for you, the flame offered.

The Monk shared a look with you and you brought your fingertips to the flame while he held the candle still.

The small ashes, that were born from the flame touching your skin, twirled down unto his hand.

It fascinated him to see another, an Ash Woman, play with the flame.

His expression had softened, tone lighter “The Ash Folk and fire, one could never separate them.”

You pulled your hand back abruptly, this was giving you the feeling that he was trying to gain your favor “Unlike you, I don’t use it to burn the world to the ground.

He rose to his feet and placed the candle on the bedside table.

It had hit a nerve in him, the bitter response fell “I never would have chosen someone like you as a wife.”

With equal disdain, you stood up and threw the words in his face “You can’t handle a woman like me, you arrogant bastard !”

You found yourself pulled against his chest, grabbed by the throat and kissed like he intended to prove you wrong.

He never would have chosen someone like you, but now that he had a fiery wife who was not afraid to speak her mind…

It was exciting and so different than he was used to.

You felt drawn into the kiss, drawn to this arrogant bastard who continued to get on your nerves.

As a last attempt to spare yourself from the trouble it could bring, you broke free and slapped him across the face.

For a second his attention was fixed on the ground, then slowly it rose to your face again.

Even after that slap, you could detect a certain look in his eyes that you undoubtedly had in yours too.

Expectation…

Who were you trying to fool ?

You were back against him not a blink of an eye later, hands grasping at his shoulders and neck to hold him close.

Never before had you kissed someone with such demand, it was his fault you were here and you wished for something in return.

The blood of the Ash Folk ran through both of you, you had not expected someone like him to still grow and have the characteristics of them.

Arrogant, clever, stubborn and…passionate.

That heightened sense of smell was known to have lead many Ash Men to their significant other.

‘They’re hard to resist’ is what your mother had told you about meeting your father. Gods, she had been right.

When you began to try and undress him, it startled him greatly.

You boldly took his hands and gave him a clear signal that he could do the same with you.

Only when you kissed him again and pleadingly called him by his name did he start to do so.

Not much later you ended up back on the bed with him hovering above you.

Your wedding had been boring, your wedding night would not be.

  oOoOoOOOooOoOoOoOOOoOoo

  By morning you were awake and dressed in your own attire again. In the heat of the moment, this Ash Man had confessed to be inexperienced, something you had barely noticed.

You stood beside the bed, he was still vast asleep. For a moment you knelt down and placed a hand over his.

He had been tender and caring, it had been mixed with a burning passion that left you a moaning mess in his hands.

It was lovely.

If only the circumstances had been different…

You rose to your feet and took the sword from the ground that had been hastily taken off and tossed aside the night before.

After a look over your shoulder at him, you walked back over to your sleeping spouse and placed a soft kiss to his temple.

You would miss those eyes…

  ooOOooOoOooOoOoOOo

  When Lancelot woke up that morning, he woke up to the fading of your scent.

His sword was gone and the two paladins guarding the door had been killed, it was not hard to understand what had happened.

Of course he was disappointed, had last night meant nothing to you ?

He refused to believe that it had all been part of a plan of yours to be able to flee.

The way you had embraced him, kissed him and moaned his name into his mouth…

And he was alive, it would have been easy for you to kill him if you had wanted to do so.

A paladin approached him the moment he set foot outside the monastery, he barely dared to look at him “Brother…your horse is gone.”

Why did it not surprise him ?

The paladin was dismissed and looked rather relieved by it.

He could not be angry, not after last night.

Maybe he was even a little impressed by your will to fight and reclaim your freedom.

Father had heard the news and came to speak to him “The girl has fled.”

Those weeping eyes were fixed on the grass “She did so while I still slept. Forgive me, Father.”

Father did not look pleased in the slightest “Did you at least fulfill your task with her ?”

He felt his cheeks burn when understanding what was asked “Yes, Father.”

Though, he had not done it to fulfill a task.

But now there was a chance that you were with child, his child, and he might never see you again.

Father was not as disappointed, there was still hope “We’ll find the girl.”

The Monk risked asking “Let me search for her, Father.”

The priest agreed “Very well. Find her and bring her back. She belongs to the Church now.”

After he gave a respectful inclination of the head, Father walked away from him.

He had lost and gained so much in a single evening and night.

He went to bed with his wife and woke up without her, without his sword and without his horse.

An actual chuckle left him, at least you would keep him entertained.

It made him all the more eager to pursue the girl who became his wife and who had stolen not just his horse and sword but also a piece of his heart.

Taglist:

@ourlazydetectivekitten​ @the-great-adventures-of-me​ @linkpk88​  @fxrchxldws​  @elenaoftheturks​ @slytherlight​ @beananacake​    @crystallizedtime​  @moonlightaura03​  @angrygardendeer​  @have-aheart​  @5am-cigarette​ @arcanenature​  @thewinterskywalker​ @notyourwildestdream​ @coloursforyourportrait​ @koressecretidentity​ @nike90​ @n1ghtlux​ @rachlovesactors​ @luckyzipperscissorsbat​ @morena-doing-stuff​  @the-fangirl-diaries​​ @gipsydanger17​​ @heavenly1927​​  @phantasmalbeiing  @labyrinthonmymind​​  @asarcastic-thiamstan  

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story.

#weeping monk #weeping monk reader #the weeping monk x reader #the weeping monk fic #weeping monk fanfiction #theweepingmonk #the weeping monk #lancelot x reader #lancelot #lancelot/reader #reader x lancelot #Cursed Netflix #cursed #netflix cursed #cursed lancelot #you x lancelot #you x weeping monk #reader x weeping monk #daniel sharman character

[hiatuswhore]

𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙 𝕤𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕝 — 𝕥𝕔

previous — masterlist — next

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: I have been struggling with writers block so I’ve been posting some works I wrote a while back but never put up. Let me know what you think. Feedbacks a good motivator! In my head I picture Shelley Hennig as Ivy, Diana Silvers as Marina, Daniel Sherman as Declan, Lili Reinhart as Mackenzie, and Camila Mendes as Bianca.

SUMMARY: Ugh, high school. Best four years of nothing. Raging mood swings and sporadic acne. All on top of balancing mean girls, douche bag guys, and cocky jocks. Best four years? Yikes image peaking in high school.

I can list several things I cannot stand. I could start with my Mom’s overbearing need to talk about her high school glory days, or my Dad’s never-ending trophies in nearly everything. My list continues for things such as romantic comedies, jean leggings, and platinum blonde hair. Do not tell Ivy about that she is one break-up away from cutting her hair and dying it blonde. I love her to pieces but she is a wildcard with a knack for trouble and a high social media following. Trust me when I say do not look at her Tik Tok. Her high following and verification coming from her looks and problematic prank videos.

“Hello? (Y/n) are you listening?” Marina asked, sitting across from me at the lunch table she types away on her laptop rambling profusely. She delicately placed flowers through her hair with half of it pinned up. She wears a cute white camisole with a beige boho cardigan that reaches the hem of her jeans. Resembling a pretty hippy, it works on her. Apologizing, I ask her to repeat herself but she only rambles about Ivy being in detention. Oddly enough Marina is on the opposite end of the continuum from Ivy. Not only the cheer captain, but one can make it a game of trying to find what club she is not a part of. Even started her own anti-bullying campaign. “So you’re not listening?”

“I’m sorry Mina. I didn’t get much sleep last night because somebody was busy practicing his guitar at all hours of the night.” I groan looking over at the guy’s table. It was a mixture of faces in the masses. No set groups at their table, the mix of guys come from all sports teams and clubs. At the center of the table sits Timmy laughing at something. You know those people you grew up with when you were little but now they just annoy the shit out of you. Yeah, that’s Chalamet, as cliche, as it is the perfect-haired idiot, is my neighbor. We grew up next to each other, yes there is a picture of us bathing together as kids. It is the bane of my existence. Yes, we are still friends but more so a down low thing. Him being the soccer goalie made him this big deal and me being virtually no one makes our friendship odd at school.

“I ordered our homecoming tickets online,” Opening my mouth to protest she quickly shrugs me off. “You have to come, it'll be no fun without you.”

“You’ll both have dates. What am I going to do? Just linger awkwardly?” Biting into my cold fry it lacks salt making me want to spit it out. Marina closes her laptop and turns to her salad she brought from home.

“Ivy and I could find you a date,” Though I have every intention of saying no I miss my opportunity as Mackenzie and Bianca sit next to us. In their cheering uniforms, they wear it every day like it is a badge of honor. It screams pick-me but everyone does pick them so the behavior is enabled.

“Hey, Marina, where's Ivy?” Mackenzie asks, scooting to the side allowing her some space both she and Bianca fail to spare me a single glance. I can see on Marina’s face that she has no interest in talking to either of them but she plants a warm smile on her face. Despite her distaste for the two most clueless people on the planet that is what I love about Marina, she is kind to everyone.

“In detention for calling Coach Hoffman an asshole,” The laugh that leaves my lips contrast the two girls’ wide eyes.

“Anyways we came over with invites for you and Ivy. Party at my place tonight. My parents are out of town.” Bianca’s raven black hair is straightened to perfection. She shuffles through her Michael Kors purse before pulling out two envelopes. Marina looks at me as she thinks it over in her head.

“Ivy will kill us both if we turned this down so yeah we’ll all be there,” For the first time since they sat at the table their eyes drift to me. I smile sheepishly as they look me up and down. Mackenzie grits her teeth as she smiles at me.

“That’s the thing (Y/n) you need an actual invite to get in and I only have a certain amount. I’ll let you know if anything changes,” I am no idiot, I know she is lying, the faux smile and honey tone holds more poison than anything.

“Problem solved.” Handing me half of her invite I bite back a laugh as Marina rips it in half. Both Bianca and Mackenzie feign chuckles as they excuse themselves leaving the two of us to watch them purposely walk by the guys’ table. Marina shakes her as she turns back to her salad. “Those two are something else.”

“I’ll catch you later I have a photography club meeting,” I say and Marina only smiles before going onto her phone. Unlike Bianca and Mackenzie, I actually have to pass the guy’s table to walk over to the dish return. It is okay though because none of them even turn from their conversations except one pair of eyes. Timothee’s lips pull into a smirk before he shoots me a wink. Smiling sarcastically I flipped him off before continuing on.

Mrs. Klotz wastes no time diving into the agenda for the following weeks. Since I arrive a few minutes late it leaves me with the bottom of the barrel for what event to cover. Of course, there is only one event that no one wants to do, the homecoming dance. As the meetings adjourned I wait for everyone to leave the room, the meeting was brief, and yet so much was covered.

“Mrs. Klotz please don’t make me cover the homecoming dance. I don’t even want to go.” I say, closing the club binder she places it in her desk before resting her hands on the desk. She wears glasses that frame her face with her auburn hair, all the guys like to creep on her due to her being fresh out of college.

“I thought it’d be perfect for you (Y/n). I even saw you purchased a ticket,” Mrs. Klotz explains as her eyebrows pull together slightly she tilts her head to the side. I mirror her expression before I remember what Marina had said.

“No, that was Marina. I’m pretty sure what she is attempting is entrapment,” I say, sitting on the edge of the desk behind me I watch as Mrs. Klotz frowns.

“Well, first that is detention for Miss Monroe. The online ticketing policy states students cannot buy tickets for other students,” My stomach flips for a moment as I realize what I have done.

“Did I say Marina sorry I get those two mixed up. It was Ivy who ordered the tickets,” Knowing Ivy would not care as she has been in detention more than she has ever been in class. None of this matters as Mrs. Klotz only apologizes before writing Ivy up and telling me there is no one else who can do it. “I assume you can give this detention slip to Miss Porter.”

In the hallway, I stop as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Ivy sent a text in the group chat telling us to meet her in the computer lab. Walking through the halls my arms fall at my side like dead limbs as I sulk through the corridors. It smells like sweat and pizza from the cafeteria and every couple of lockers is a candy wrapper or abandoned worksheet. Whoever the hell said high school was the best four years of your life, lied. In the computer lab, both Marina and Ivy are already there. Ivy is wearing a tube top with a denim jacket and legging. She is breaking the dress code as usual but it is getting to a point where the faculty do not even care what she wears. I am almost certain Ivy could show up in a bikini and no one would be fazed. Handing her the detention slip her eyebrows pull together.

“Wait what did I do this time?” She asks, explaining the situation she laughs at me before turning to Marina, “Since I am now the sacrificial lamb I would love to talk about that super cute sheer tank top you refuse to let me wear.”

“You get to wear it once then it goes back in my closet,” Marina says, rolling her eyes at the extortion. I look to Ivy asking why she summoned both of us to the computer lab but she only shrugs saying she got bored. There are still ten minutes to spare before the warning bell goes off. Marina hands Ivy the invite to the party and the two giggle amongst themselves about it but I only groan.

“Wait, this is a perfect time to figure out a date for (Y/n) for homecoming. How about Jack Ribas?” Marina says, looking through her Instagram followers as the short boy came to mind I can remember he was my chemistry partner.

“Tiny hands,” I cannot fight the grimace on my face as Ivy laughs before going on her Instagram. The real answer being his ex-girlfriend, she rarely speaks and I am sure she is the reason he has not dated in over a year.

“What about Mark Warshaw?” Ivy asked, earning a nudge from Marina as she is clearly not taking it seriously.

“He smells terrible. Come on,” I say, leaning back in my seat this only furthers how much I do not want to go to homecoming. Marina continues looking through her phone and I cannot say I do not appreciate her wanting to help.

“Terrance Avecedo?” As the name left her lips I could not help but stare at her with eyes I can only imagine appeared crazed.

“You mean my cousin? Dude,” I say as Marina apologizes profusely there is one guy I would not absolutely hate the idea of going with. Just my luck he and a few of his buddies walk by the computer lab. Declan Knight, once again it’s super cliche but he’s the football quarterback and captain. Timothee found it more than hilarious my crush on the 6’2 curly-haired beau.

“Hey, Ivy. Hey, Marina,” He says, popping his head into the computer lab and they both say hey Declan at the same time before he turns to me. “Hey, (Y/n).”

The feeling of panic rushes every inch of me as I force out a chuckle before breathlessly saying, “Hey.”

“Real smooth,” Fortunately Ivy says this as Declan is already continuing on wherever he is walking toward. Marina once again nudges Ivy as I put my head down groaning loudly.

“I am going to my locker. Please leave me to sulk about my day in peace.” I say and I hear Marina yell love you, saying it back I do not turn around. Everyone is in the hallways always playing it dangerously close to the late bell. At my locker, I can see Timothee walking toward my locker.

“Double-A.” He says, looking at me with his usual shit-eating grin, I frown as we rarely speak in school.

“Timmy. Shouldn’t you be ducking behind something to talk to me here?” He only chuckles. Girls would kill for him to walk up to the locker and chat yet I would pay him right now to walk away from me. Only wearing a simple long sleeve shirt, jeans, and converse he is still somehow a hot commodity at school.

“Funny. Also what the hell were you watching last night. It gave me soft porn vibes but very cinematic,” He asks and I shift on the balls of my feet as his grin widens. So I decided to watch that movie 365 on Netflix which was one of the cringest things I have ever seen.

“Spying on me much?” But once again I earn a laugh before he says that I should close my curtains more often. “Maybe don’t look in my window.”

“Noted. Where’s your girls at?” He asks scanning the hall for Marina and Ivy I close my locker. Crossing my arms I look at him asking who wants to know but the smirk on his lips reappears. “The only man in your life. No, your Dad does not count. So that leaves me, you are very welcome.”

“I can assure my love. You would not be in my life even if you were the only man on the planet.” I said, watching as he places his hand over his heart feigning pain. He wastes no time in quoting Marina’s anti-bullying campaign motto, Spread the Love. “Shut up jackass.”

“Timothee,” Mackenzie says and the high pitch of her voice makes me grimace as I look away. She pulls him into a kiss that lasts a couple of seconds longer than needed. The two are the most indecisive couple I have ever seen. I’ll break it down like this, today is Wednesday. Monday they were dating, Tuesday they were not, today is a big question mark and tomorrow is still a coin toss. This does not stop Timmy from being a total whore when they are broken up. I’m pretty sure Mackenzie still does not know Timothee hooked up with Bianca. I narrow my eyes as Mackenzie looks at me as she kisses Timothee. The urge to promise her I have no interest in the mop-headed idiot is strong but instead, I just stand there.

“Hey still here,” Placing my hands in my pocket I look down at the tiles as Mackenzie pulls back.

“Gosh, (Y/n) I am so sorry. Since when were you friends with my ex-boyfriend?” She asks, smiling kindly but it is clearly fake. I have no intention of outing our lifelong friendship but I have no time to even say anything before Timothee chimes in.

“We’re not just asking for some notes. What does it matter anyway?” Timothee asks, looking at Mackenzie who gives him a doe-eyed pout. Gagging as she pulls him into another kiss.

“I know you miss me.��� She says before stalking off and I cannot help but now smirk at him.

“Healthy thing you got going there,” I say but he rolls his eyes before walking down the hall away from me. The rest of the day feels uneventful, the girls and I agree to meet at my house to get ready for the party. Which translates to them already ready and helping me insisting on staying home.

#timothée chalamet fanfiction #timothee x you #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet au #timothée fanfic #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #Shelly hennig imagine #Diana silvers imagine #Daniel sharman imagine #lili reinhart imagine #camila Mendes imagine

[darlingofstories]

Like We Were in Paris Masterlist

I'm so in love that I might stop breathing Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling No, I didn't see the news 'Cause we were somewhere else Stumbled down pretend alleyways Cheap wine, make believe it's champagne I was taken by the view Like we were in Paris

After leaving the pack behind, Isaac gets a fresh start in Paris. On his first day of classes at his new school, he meets Gabrielle Marie – his assigned peer mentor for the semester. The two couldn’t be more different. There’s nothing Gabby loves more than getting lost in her classes and letting her imagination run wild on the page, while Isaac’s never been very good at writing. For better or worse, the two are paired together, and their connection leads to new discoveries that sends them on an adventure neither could have expected.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapters:

Comment to be added to tag list!

#isaac lahey #daniel sharman #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #isaac lahey fanfiction #isaac lahey imagine #teen wolf fandom #mtv teen wolf

[captainbucky-yt]

"You're Not What I Was Looking For"

-- The Weeping Monk x OC (fem)

Chapter 68: to love so fierce [ ao3 ]

Chapter Summary: Ari and Lancelot make the most of their final night before war.

Content Warning: Smut/explicit/mature content. MINORS DNI. M/F nudity. Minor praise kink. Minor sub/dom. Vaginal fingering/penetration. Hand jobs. Oral M/F receiving. Edging. Unprotected M/F intercourse (wrap it before you tap it, guys)

Taglist: @trenko-heart @nike90 @moonlightaura03 (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

Exert:

Lancelot dragged the roughness of his beard along her jaw, leaving a burning trail in his wake.

“Turn around," he instructed.

The depth in his voice had want and need flaring through Ari’s body. 

Lancelot’s grip moved to either side of her hips as Ari turned herself around and pressed her shoulder blades to his chest, arching her body into his wandering touch. His fingers slid deftly over her hips, across her stomach, and then tugged upon the half undone binding over her chest. She breathed out in relief as the cloth fell away.

He kissed her shoulder, then her neck. Dipping his fingers down between her legs and branding her with the first curl of his index.

“Ohhh—” Ari buckled with a whimper at Lancelot’s delicate touch on her mound, feeling the hard press of his length against her rear. She’d forgotten all about the golden crown braided into her hair until it nudged against his collarbone, too lost in Lancelot parting her folds to reach up and work the braids apart. She pushed her hips back, delighting in the grunt she earned from him.

Across her body, Lancelot wrapped his forearm and hugged her tight. She held on while his fingertips massaged between her legs, and stars began to creep in to the darkness of her shut eyes.

“Nobody touches you like this—” Lancelot said with a warning as harsh as velvet in her ear, rubbing his cock up against her ass— “but me, remember?”

Ari chuckled lowly despite herself, remembering how much his tongue had boldly ran away from him the last time they fucked. “You don’t need to tell me twice.”

#weeping monk #the weeping monk #daniel sharman #the weeping monk fanfic #the weeping monk fanfiction #cursed netflix #cursed fanfic #cursed fanfiction #the weeping monk x oc #weeping monk x oc #lancelot #lancelot x oc #fantasy #romantasy #magic #powers

[catwithyellowwings]

Troy Otto x OFC (Megan Harris)

English is not my first language. OFC Megan Harris - childhood friend of Troy, Jake and Mike

"I don't understand what you see in him," Alicia muttered, shaking her head, seeing another showdown between the Otto brothers. Always the good man, Jake did not like the methods of his younger brother, who perceived threats to his address with a satisfied grin. He knew Jake wouldn't do anything to him, and Jeremiah was dead. Now the younger Otto's hands are untied, and he was going to clean up the farm, considering it his duty. To protect his people from the zombie invasion, Troy was ready to do anything, even forced killings, which neither his brother nor the recently arrived Clarks liked at all. In a short time, Madison somehow managed to gain credibility with the locals, which Troy did not really like, although he tried to ignore it, not perceiving Madison as a danger.

"What are you talking about?" without taking her eyes off from the disputants, asked Meg.

"Don't pretend," Clark sighed wearily, noticing how her friend's eyes were constantly following the younger Otto. "I can see the way you're looking at Troy. You clearly have something more than just friendship. After all, you didn't look at Mike like that, and neither did at Jake now."

"Jake has always been like an older brother to me," the girl explained, folding her arms on her chest. "He was covering for us all, keeping an eye on us. And Mike..." her heart skipped uncomfortably when her brain involuntarily reminded her of what had become of an old childhood friend, "Mike, Troy and I were inseparable. Jeremiah sometimes made fun of us that one day we would make a love triangle."

"And what?" Alicia didn't understand the hint.

"And that's not going to happen," Megan said flatly, finally deigning to pay attention to Clark. "I’ve never felt anything but friendship for Mike. And Troy... well, he's not the type to build a relationship with, if you haven't noticed. Therefore, the prophecy of old Otto is not destined to come true."

Meg was clearly aware that she was now openly lying to her so-called friend, but she didn't need to know that. In fact, Jeremiah was right. They had the notorious love triangle, which was difficult to avoid. When they were still teenagers, in view of the limited circle of communication, Mike began to feel something more for Megan besides friendship. For several years, he persistently drowned these feelings in himself, confessing them only after a drunken party that Meg and Otto brothers arranged for him in honor of his eighteenth birthday.

When Jake and Troy were asleep near the campfire, Mike invited Meg for a little walk, where under the influence of alcohol and confessed his feelings. Drunk, he even climbed up to kiss her, but immediately received a slap in the face, which instantly sobered him. The shock and fear in Megan's eyes haunted him for a long time, although in the morning they agreed to keep that situation a secret and behave as if nothing had happened.

The girl understood that she did not feel the same feelings for Mike that he felt for her, so she simply could not give him false hopes, believing that it was better to stop such things in the bud in order to cause less pain to each other. By that time, her heart was completely occupied with the youngest of Otto brothers, but he was far from romantic.

When the conversation between the girls ended, Jake and Troy's argument was over too. Troy, being on edge, went straight to the jeeps, climbing into one of them to go to unwind. That's when he noticed Clark and Harris watching them and decided to drive there first. Realizing this, Alicia hurried after her boyfriend, leaving her friend alone to deal with the younger Otto.

"Do you want to take a little walk, Megs?" he addressed her through the open window on the passenger side.

"Did you have a fight with Jake again?" already knowing the answer, Megan decided to ask this question anyway.

"It's nothing," Troy waved off, although his firm grip on the steering wheel proved that he was still angry. "My brother, as always, pretends to be a saint, not realizing that everything I do is for the protection of our people. But I know you've always understood me, right?"

"What makes you think that?" and, not daring to move, she asked again.

"Because you love me," Otto replied with a satisfied grin, which made Meg's insides clench with fear. The girl did not want her friend to ever find out about her unrequited love for him. This secret was supposed to go with her to the grave. "Come on, Megs, I'm kidding," seeing how Harris tensed up from these words, Troy confessed and laughed. "But this does not negate the fact that you are the only one of all people who is always on my side and supports me. You're the only one I can rely on in this damn world of lies and hypocrisy. So, will you take a ride with me?" he returned to the first question. "If we're lucky, we'll kill a couple of walkers on the way. Come on, I know you like it."

"The hell with you," Megan muttered, rolling her eyes, once again reproaching herself for not being able to refuse a person she cared about, and opened the passenger door.

"Yes!" Troy exclaimed, slapping the steering wheel. "I knew you wouldn't leave me alone!"

"In your dreams, Otto," feeling a surge of energy and adrenaline, the girl grinned. "You and I are in the same bundle. Forever."

#troy otto x reader #troy otto x ofc #troy otto x fem!reader #troy otto x original character #ftwd #fear the walking dead #ftwd fanfiction #daniel sharman

[bleggmoe-blog]

Troy Otto return?!?! Tf might have to watch ftwd. Stopped watching after Nick died. I really hope so. I have sooo many fanfic ideas!

#troy otto #fear the walking dead #ftwd roleplay #twd fanfiction #troy otto imagine #daniel sharman

[insom-nom-nom-niatic]

Morning Views

Hello! This is my own re-post from an old side blog that I just personally can't stop reading for my own indulgence... so figured I'd bring this quick little jot back from the dead. It also may be my lame attept to get the writing bug back in me.

Always assume anything by me is 18+ for one reason or another. Prompt: "don’t mind me. just enjoying the view."

Muse: D. Sharman

A beam of sunlight warms the bare skin of your back in the crisp morning air. You had forgotten how great mornings like this were, being so immensely exhausted from the night before and waking up refreshed, and a bit sore, with the scent of your true safety and comfort now once again embossed into the cotton sheets. A rustling of those sheets lulls your eyes open. 

“Goodmorning my love,” his voice is barely audible throught the roughness of his voice. The voice that makes you beg to just stay in bed together, forever and ever. As his baby blues meet your eyes, your  small smile shines in the sunlight in return. 

You missed this, so much. He’d been away filming for a couple months so these mornings, with him and waking up in pure bliss, were beginning to become a nightly wish of yours. You both had work and knew this kind of distance would be a rather regular part in your relationship. But, it didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult… do able, but difficult. 

A groan from the brunette beside you pulled you from your thoughts, his hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You took that moment to rise so that you were sitting at the edge of the mattress, holding the soft sheet against your front to conceal any bare body parts from the cold air. A moan this time escapes his chest from behind you, the feeling of his warm fingers dancing across the skin of your back causing a shiver to run up your spine. Looking over your shoulder, your eyes catch his teeth biting down on his bottom lip as his eyes wander over your naked form as if it had changed from only a few hours ago. 

His eyes look up, catching yours with a devilish grin. 

“Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view,” His voice murmured, still as raspy as ever which only makes that little knot in your core begin to tighten again. He doesn’t have to look to your cheeks to know how much he makes you fluster in the mornings. 

Getting up, you lean over and throw his t-shirt from the night before over your naked form before padding soft bare feet into the bathroom to freshen up a tad, despite his consistent whines for you in bed. You were readying yourself to hear another whimper from the bedroom, but instead, 2 hands softly envelop around your middle, catching you off guard. 

#and cue the anxiety attack from not writing or posting anything for months #daniel sharman #daniel sharman fic #fanfiction #I write #daniel sharman comfort #daniel sharman cute #i dont remember genres anymore #if you dont like it then dont read it and go away #thanks

[generalallxsanjishipper]

Hi! Welcome.

This is Generalallxsanjishipper's blog

(A long ass nick, I know.)

*stares at the (not many) but 100% "Yes" votes that was in the poll* (How the hell am I supposed to introduce myself? I have no idea, but okay, whatever—)

Killian here! It's not my real name, but it's my art name. I can be called Isa or Bibi as well. My real name is Barbara.

I'm from Italy and I'm a 2001 girl, She/her pronouns, bisexual, introverted, Virgo (too much of a perfectionist sometimes. Ops)

I am a Writer, a Screenwriter and an Artist. I even went to an art school, but the only thing that I learned there is anxiety. Yey.

I love reading. Like tons of books, but for whatever reason I stopped entirely reading books written in Italian and now I'm constantly binge-reading english stuff.

As a Writer, I create tons of Own Characters, yes. I have honestly so many OCs that it's hard to keep track of them between Original Works and Fanfiction. I have to admit that I never wrote as much fanfiction as I'm doing during those last years, mostly for bad experience with criticism in my first fics. But apparently I got over it after randomly starting to write little One Shots of a few different fandoms. It excalated, now.

To read my stuff, you can find me in AO3, Efp, Wattpad, and soon (I think) on Fanfiction.net under Killian44peeta's nickname. Even as an Artist, you can find me with that nickname on Instagram. I DO NOT have TikTok and I DO NOT intend to have it. If I change my mind, it's gonna rain for months lol.

I have many, many fandoms.

Listing them all is impossible, but my obsessions usually stuck the most when I have a "main crush" in said fandom. If not, they are fleeting at best... And usually the same main crush is the one that I ship with most people (Not always though).

Yep. I'm a multishipper, pro LGBTQ+ and I love polyamorous relationships.

When I hate a ship, I just hate it. No matter how hard you try to change my mind. Still, I'm of the "live and let live policy" because, damn, ship wars are boring and if you dislike something, YOU BLOODY IGNORE IT.

YOU DO NOT STUPIDLY FIGHT SOMEONE AND SAY TO THEM TO K*LL THEMSELVES BECAUSE THEY DO NOT SHIP YOUR PAIRING. THOSE PEOPLE YOU SHIP DO NOT EXIST. THEY ARE JUST A WRITER'S FANTASY. NO NEED TO BE SO STUPIDLY CHILDISH. JUST CALM DOWN.

*takes a deep breath*

Thanks.

A few examples of my main crushes:

Animated ones first.

Sanji, Corazon, Reiju and Vivi (One Piece), Douxie (Tales of Arcadia), Zuko (Avatar), Mika (Owari No Seraph), Levi, Jean and Yelena (Shingeki no Kyojin), Akashi and Kise(Kuroko no basket), Gwen (Total Drama), Megara (Hercules), Dark Bloom (Winx Club), Hijikata (Gintama), Hyoga, Eden, every Virgo Saint ever except Shun (Saint Seiya+), Shiro and Pidge (Voltron), Lust and Roy(Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood)

Not animated crushes (directly the person, not the role, because if not the list would be sooo much longer, ok)

Daniel Sharman, Danielle Campbell, Colin O'donoghue, Richard Armitage, Ian Somerhalder, Josh Hutcherson, Zoe Kravitz, Tom Ellis, Hayden Christensen, Bridgette Mendler

(am I forgetting someone? Probably. Sorry)

Welp. I dunno what else to say. Hope you have fun inside my blog? If you wanna be friends (chat here, on Discord, WhatsApp... ) and ask questions I'm okay with it? If you wanna talk with me about (my, yours) stories, I'm DEFINITELY okay with it.

:D I love to rant about fanfictions and original works. I love ranting about ocs and headcanon about characters. Yes.

(do not kill me if I don’t answer immediately, I have a life/I need time to draw/I need time to write)

Bye.

-Killian

#Killian'sthoughts #my blog #my post #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr #intro post #introduction #blog #blog intro

[noemitenshi]

Masterlist

Here you'll find all the things I create (all type of fics, gifs, metas), conveniently collected in one place. So far I'm obsessed with Cursed and Fear the Walking Dead (which has one common theme, Daniel Sharman). Enjoy 🧡

Fear the Walking Dead

Fanfiction

Troy Otto

Ghost 2,126 words, WIP, angst, sad, exploration of Troy's headspace immediately after the last scene we see him at the dam, what did surviving this do to him?

Troy Otto x Alicia Clark

[Series] Sick like you [01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05] Troy Otto x Alicia Clark, 9,850 words, finished, smut, so much smut, slight dub-con, D/s undertones, part one is canon compliant, Alicia is done being the good kid, but then she feels bad about it, cheating, enemies to lovers, unhealthy to healthy relationship

Troy Otto x Crazy Dog (Lee) || Troy Otto & Crazy Dog (Lee)

Addicted to mess Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 185,730 words, WIP, (lots and lots of) smut, fluff, angst, wholesome, enemies to enemies with benefits to lovers, watch them turn an unhealthy relationship into a healthy one , also have I said smut yet?

Fool me twice Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 20,350 words, WIP, smut, dub con, unhealthy relationship, Troy Otto has a deathwish, Crazy Dog takes advantage

Just around the corner Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 4,185 words, WIP, fluff, AU - no zombies, In a world without zombies Troy finds a different purpose

Love, endless Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 1,029, finished (for now), unhealthy relationship, angst, dark, tragedy, COMIC

Moonlit Kisses Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 32,750 words, finished, fluff, wholesome, sweet, first kiss, first time, smut, canon divergent, teeny bit of angst, some whump

Paint your body in hues of red Troy Otto x Crazy Dog x OC, 1,933 words, finished, smut, fluff, established relationship, wax play, facesitting

Sex Worker AU Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, no official word count, no WIP and not finished but a secret third thing (idea I had I'll probably never write), AU - no zombies, Troy sells the ranch after his father dies and decides to have some fun, includes but not limited to hiring a sex worker (Lee), client to friend to lover, imagine

Soup Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 696 words, finished, fluff, Troy loves soup

Surprise Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 625 words, finished, fluff, Troy has a surprise for Crazy Dog

[Series] The easy part is always hardest to see [01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 04 (alternative version) - 05 - 06] Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 42,204 words, finished, smut, teeny bit of dub-con, a lot of fluff, some angst, pining, whump, enemies to friends to lovers

[Series] The melody of sand and waves and hope and schemes Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 2,629 words, finished (for now?), AU - Royalty, arranged marriage, fluff, cute, pre-relationship, Princess Troy series

The monster that brought me here Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 28,323 words, WIP, dark, angst, hurt, little comfort, sad, Troy is dealing with the trauma of having been raped, Crazy Dog has his own trauma to work through, canon divergent, second part of a series, fallout from 'I'd do it all again'

The moon bathes your face in gentle light no official wordcount, finished (for now) Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, angst, fluff, Troy survives s8, saves Tracy and runs into a familiar face - the two former enemies bond over their similar grief

This insanity you give to me Troy Otto x Crazy Dog, 29,551 words, finished, smut, fluff, teeny bit of angst, instead of avoiding Crazy Dog after their initial encounter in 'Addicted to mess' Troy seeks him out. After all, that asshole can't just do things like that to him and then leave, spin-off of 'Addicted to mess'

What's it gonna be, Troy? Troy Otto & Crazy Dog, 8,146 words, finished, oneshot, soulmate AU, angst, fluff, pre-relationship, enemies to friends (soulmates)

Troy Otto & Jake Otto

Cozy 353 words, finished, angst, some fluff, what was running through Troy's mind during the hug with Jake in s3ep9 (right before he was exiled)

Troy Otto & Madison Clark

Moral Compass no official word count, no WIP and not finished but a secret third thing (idea I had I'll probably never write), a stab at deepening Troy's and Madison's relationship (really just the beginning of it), a mututal madness

What should've been - Troy's revenge 1,242, finished, angst, hurt, some comfort I guess, fix-it I guess, how s8ep11 should've gone

When home becomes a strange place Troy Otto & Madison Clark, 3,370 words, finished, fix-it, hopeful ending, bittersweet, what would it take for Madison to actually start caring about Troy

Troy Otto x Nick Clark || Troy Otto & Nick Clark

I'd do it all again Troy Otto x Nick Clark, 10,185 words, finished, dark, angst, hurt no comfort, non-con (rape), suicide, not a happy story, what if things at the dam went a bit different - and how will they live with the consequences of their actions?

Sketch Troy Otto & Nick Clark, 337 words, finished, angst, hopeful?, fix-it?

That Crazy Bastard Troy Otto & Nick Clark, 728 words, finished, fluff, Troy had been vanishing for over a week now, refusing to tell Nick what he was up to. Until today

Troy Otto x Crazy Dog X OC

I can't stop imagining hurting you Troy Otto x Crazy Dog x OC, 9,424 words, finished, smutt, fluff, Troy gets introduced to the concept of spanking

Lost & Found Troy Otto x Crazy Dog x OC, 32,554 words, WIP, fluff, angst, Troy Otto being saved after the dam, finding his way back to himself, fast-burn, 'Addicted to mess' chapters 1 and 2 happened in this universe too, rest of s3 happened as in canon

No title Troy Otto x Crazy Dog x OC, no official word count, snippet, fluff, angst, abusive!serena backstory

Troy Otto x OC

Earn your keep 131,622 words, WIP, Troy gets a redemption arc, major character death (happens in the first chapter), Troy Otto centric, slow burn, grudging allies to friends to lovers, angst, fluff

Follow me (down the streams of sweat on your body) Troy Otto x unnamed female (could be reader, could be author, could be OC, could even be someone from canon), 5,612 words, finished, smut, slight D/s undertones, bondage, aftercare, fluff, praise kink

Kept 14,893 words, WIP, dub-con, past sexual abuse, AU - no Clarks, dark, angst, suicidal thoughts, bad BDSM etiquette, unhealthy relationship, slow burn to a better place, two broken people trying to figure things out between them, will get worse before it gets better

Troy Otto & his parents (Jeremiah Otto, Tracy Otto)

Childhood memories 2,084 words, WIP, angst, hurt, dark, child abuse, a study of Troy's childhood, his mother's complicated feelings, what happened with the rabbits

Troy Otto & Tracy Otto (daughter)

Reunion no official wordcount, Imagine, finished, angst, fluff, Troy survived s8 and rescues his daughter

Gifs&Lyrics

I will do it again

Who are you to say that?

Asks & Metas

Jake Otto

Jake Otto as a Brother

even more

Troy Otto

...and Boundaries

...and the Horde

...as a father

Favorite Troy scene(s) and why

'I don't drink'

'I'd do it all again'

...in a relationship

'It's the first time I've felt fear'

On killing Mike

Post s8 thoughts

Troy and Madison

Troy's feelings in his last moments (s3)

Troy's sexuality and more on his sexuality

Why Troy didn't get poisoned like the other Militia members

'You stayed at the ranch because you love me'

Cursed

Fanfiction

Empty ways can cloud your eyes The Weeping Monk x Reader, 20,268 words, WIP (though ch 11 is a good place to end things), redemption arc, crisis of faith, friends to lovers, fluff and angst, whump

Madness is a narrow bridge The Weeping Monk, finished, oneshot, angst, dark, no comfort, a heartbreaking glimpse into the weeping monk's mind while he hunts his own

Gifs&Lyrics

The Weeping Monk & Squirrel, AOV by Slipknot

The Weeping Monk & Gawain, Custer by Slipknot

The Weeping Monk & his faith (i guess), Broken Crown by Mumford and Sons

The Weeping Monk & his guilt, Lech by Slipknot

The Weeping Monk & his doubts, The burden by Slipknot

The Weeping Monk & Father Carden, The In-between by In This Moment

#troy otto #lancelot #the weeping monk #jake otto #alicia clark #madison clark #nick clark #ftwd #fear the walking dead #cursed netflix #fanfics #gifs and lyrics #masterlist #my writing #this took forever to make #god i'm really bad at keeping this up to date

[nashibirne]

Hi! Sorry if I'm distracting you. But maybe you can recommend me some interesting blogs on Tumblr with fanfiction about Daniel Sharman or any of his characters? Anyway have a nice day.

Sweet nonie, thanks for your message and no worries, my ask box is always open, so don't be shy! 💜

I'm not that deep in the Daniel fandom and I don't follow many fan blogs but if you're looking for great Daniel fan fiction and gifs check out Emi's lovely blog @emelinelovesjc and her masterlist

You can also find four Daniel / Lancelot stories on my masterlist

#ask nashi

[themuselesswriter]

The Queen of Apocalypse

Okay hear me out, I have this plot where a nuclear apocalypse happens and 400 years later people become mutants and women go like “men are literally the reason why we’re here so fuck them we are taking over” and it’s a series of actions between a clan’s leader and how she manages to rule her clan, take care of her family and fight outsiders! And of course, whose better than Bridget Regan to be the queen/ leader and Daniel Sharman to be her arm candy!

To give you a glimpse of my muse, enjoy the aus below

Anyways it’s still extremely underdeveloped and going through a lot of work if anyone is interested in discussing it or wants to help with writing it lemme know! I’m just excited so like, with this off my chest I can at last move on 😂

#original character #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #rp #roleplaying #roleplay #daniel sharman #the weeping monk #cursed lancelot #netflix cursed #legend of the seeker #bridget regan #apocalypse au #work in progress #writersnetwork #museless au

[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : The Forbidden Apple    Chapter 21

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Father Carden begins to notice how his Weeping Monk starts to question all he was raised to believe in. In an effort to distract him, he has his Red Brothers bring him a 'gift.' The Monk is skeptical when he hears of this, Father never just gave him gifts. But when the Monk enters his tent in the evening he understood what Father had meant by 'gift'. You, a fey girl, were the gift.

Chapter Title: Scars Of The Past

Notes:  Feeling a little better. Finally finished my fight with chapter 26 I think.

Warnings: There's a list of warnings for this story: Stockholm syndrome (?), lima syndrom (?). Rape threats, sexual assault, murder and violence. Angst. Sexism. Strong Language. Trauma. Childhood trauma. Survivor's guilt. Mentions of child maltreatment. Mention of menstruation.

Other warnings: ! Smut ! Jealousy. Enemies to lovers (?). Romance. Pining. Thigh grinding.

Word count of this fic: +140K

Chapter:  21 / 27

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning you went to the infirmary to find something for the headache and to see how Arthur was doing.

Arthur seemed to be in a better mood than you despite his injury, half laughing at the state you were in “Wow, you look terrible. What did you do last night ?”

“Thanks.” You deadpanned.

After drinking a vial with some medicine you told him what happened the night before “I forgot to drink water yesterday, drank ale instead.”

Another laugh came from him “I take it that it did not work out well ?”

You stood next to the cot he was on “It didn’t. I ended up fainting. Luckily Gawain was there.”

He sat upright now “Oh, are you alright ? You didn’t fall did you ?”

Your eyes fell on the hand that he placed on your arm “Gawain caught me, I didn’t hurt myself. Speaking off last night, did the Red Spear come to see you ?”

He withdrew his hand “She has.”

You waited for more information but he looked…reluctant “I like her. She’s terrifying, but I like her.”

Arthur smiled coyly “You love danger then ?”

Quick as a whip you turned it around “Do you ?”

That smile grew nervous real quick, perhaps he did not know what he loved yet.

But he was not ready to surrender “I think you do.”

You quirked a brow “Why is that ?”

He said it like it was a fact “You like to be around terrifying people.”

You denied it “There is only Red Spear.”

Then he cheekily added “And Lancelot.”

An actual soft laugh escaped you “He is not terrifying !”

Arthur was ready to prove his point “To you. Because you know him better than anyone else here.”

Was he really fighting you on this ? “Don’t be ridiculous. I am not drawn to danger.”

He patted a hand on the cot “Well, if that is the case, come sit with this non-dangerous heavily wounded man then.”

You didn’t know why you hesitated to sit with a friend, but you did…

Arthur noticed this and sounded rather hurt “You sat with him when he was here…”

There was no judgment in his tone, he was stating only facts.

With a look of guilt you apologized to him “I’m sorry…”

Arthur was sure of the matter now “I was right, wasn’t I ? Something did happen between you and him.”

Slowly you walked over and sat at the foot on the cot “I…” what to say “He might have kissed me once. But it doesn’t matter, he explained that the vow forbade it. And it won’t happen again.”

The sheer surprise on Arthur’s face went unnoticed, you were too busy looking down at your fidgeting hands.

Lancelot had done the right thing by admitting that the kiss should not have happened, it was better considering the circumstances the two of you had been in. The thing that you could not forget was how you had not been upset that your first kiss was ‘stolen’ from you by him…

There was doubt in his voice when he parroted “It won’t happen again ?”

It felt too personal to speak further of this “I respect his choice.”

Arthur could tell that you wanted to end this topic “He saved my life, could’ve left me to die out there, but he didn’t. Complicated man that is, one moment he looks like he wants to hit me, the next he’s helping me.”

That sounded familiar “When I was with him in the paladin camp, it took a while to see the real person behind the Weeping Monk.”

Then he admitted “I trust him. Call me mad, but…I trust him.”

It caused you to smile “You’re not mad. And I’m glad to hear that you two are finally becoming friends.”

He sat upright and reached for your hand, placing his on top “I can see why he is so fond of you. You’re lovely, y/n. A great person to be around. Don’t ever let your parents make you believe that you are anything less but incredible.”

The compliments were followed by him swiftly leaning in, catching you off-guard, and kissing your cheek.

If you hadn’t turned your head to the side, he would have gone ahead and put his lips to yours.

He was quick to understand that you were rejecting him.

An awkward silence fell between you. Arthur was sweet, handsome and always there to help, but something more was missing and kissing him wouldn’t have felt right. And then there was the fact that the captain of the raiders had her sights set on him.

It was not often that using his charms did not work, but he had a vague idea why “Sorry. You did not want me to do that ?”

You felt a bit guilty, had you given the wrong impression ? “I’m sorry too, I just don’t think I feel more than friendship.”

It was not his first rejection and he handled it with grace “At least you’re honest.”

You decided to inform him of the captain’s interest in him, doubting she had been brave enough to do so herself last night “Red Spear fancies you, Arthur.”

He seemed rather surprised “Did she tell you that ?”

Well, Arthur sounded rather interested in the news “Not with many words, but it’s quite obvious. Did she say anything to you about it ?”

He recalled what the Red Spear had told him “She told me that she felt sorry and blamed herself for how I got injured, she sort of said it rather quietly. Also said that she was glad I was alive, said a good swordsman would have gone to waste otherwise.”

That was perhaps the closest thing to a confession of love that the raider’s captain would ever get “We both know that Red Spear is more for action than words.”

The Manblood would have to read between the lines quite a lot if he wished to figure the captain out “That’s true. But…” he gestured between the two of you “Are we…alright ?”

Ah, clearly he was wondering whether you took offense to him pursuing another after almost kissing you “We are.”

Arthur, the charming and flirtatious Manblood, would have quite a challenge if he would indeed pursue the Red Spear.

You got up from the cot “I need to go and find Percival, I promised to give him a drawing of a fox today. Will you be alright ?”

He gestured a little hilariously to himself “I’ll be on my feet again in no time.”

You shook your head, laughing “Alright, I guess you’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”

He nodded and you left the infirmary to find Percival.

   And you did find the spirited boy, he was busy with demanding attention from Lancelot. Pulling out all hidden weapons he could find in the saddle from the Ash Man’s horse.

More than once, Lancelot had to disarm him. It ended with the Ash Man grabbing a dagger from him and holding the boy with an arm around his chest, leaving the child to twist and turn to try and get free. Lancelot only shifted his grasp on the boy each and every time, barely able to contain a loud laugh.

They both looked so happy and playful. The often serious Ash Man had a strong playfulness inside of him, you had experienced this in the forest once when he had indulged you with a game of hide and seek.

That was a nice moment to remember…

“Stop doing that.” A voice came from right next to you.

It made you jump a little and move a step to the side, blurting out “What do you mean ?”

Pym was looking at you with a judging only she could show, she mimicked your voice and parroted “What do you mean ?” then chuckled “Come on, do you think I’m stupid ? I know you’re not staring at nothing.”

You rolled your eyes but felt very caught “Fine, you’re right, I was staring. Can you blame me for looking ? I know that nothing else will ever happen again.”

You had told her about the kiss and how those serving the Church took a vow. It was a one time occurrence. All those touches shared, but there was still a line he would never cross. The desire he had once felt was kept under control. A romantic conjoining was not possible, he had been honest to you about this. And you would not expect him to break his vow, if this was his choice, then you respected it. You had made your peace with it.

The occasional hug and other signs of affection from him were already more than you had ever known.

It was enough, he was enough and you wouldn’t want to miss him for the world.

She then casually mentioned “Hmm. I guess you’re right. I’ve seen others stare at him too.”

It came out sharp “What others ?”

Pym snorted a laugh at the sudden bitterness you spoke with “Gods, y/n. Can you be more obvious ?”

You denied what she was clearly still hinting at “He’s my friend, I’m just worried about him. I don’t want people to bother him.”

She muttered quietly under her breath, yet perfectly loud enough for you to hear “How can they bother him when you are doing it all the time ?”

You scoffed loudly and gave her a light playful push “Are you calling me annoying ?”

Pym put an arm around your shoulder “Nah, but I think you are absolutely mad for staring at a monk.”

You removed her arm from your shoulder “I never tease you for staring at the Green Knight. And you’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

She had never looked so speechless before, her cheeks turning a soft pink color “Have not !”

With a raised brow you looked at a flustered Pym “Shall we talk about something else ?”

She was eager to take that opportunity.

  oOoooOOOoooOOoOOoo

  After handing an ecstatic Percival the drawing, you went to find Lancelot in the stables, he was busy brushing Goliath’s coat with some straw.

While knocking on the wooden walls, you greeted him “Good morning.”

Glancing over at you, he greeted you too “Good morning. How are you feeling today ?”

It would surprise you if he had not noticed the squinting of your eyes from the headache you had “Better.”

There was doubt written all over his expression and he reached into the saddlebag to take out his flask filled with water, offering it to you “Drink.”

You didn’t even protest, he would wave away any excuses you would give him.

“Thanks.” You took the flask and drank some sips.

Just as you were drinking, he reached higher with the straw to brush Goliath’s back with it.

When he lifted his arm something caught your attention.

You held his arm in your hand, moving his cloak to the side “What happened to your shirt ? I could try to sew it back-”

When he shifted, so did the fabric and revealed the wound that had stopped bleeding only hours ago. The bloodstained piece of cloth wrapped around it now visible to your eyes.

Immediately you wanted to know why he had not spoken off this “You’re wounded ?!? Gods, Lancelot ! Why didn’t you say something ??”

He moved your hands away first, then moved you a step back too “It happened at the Mill. It will heal, I have cleaned it. Do not worry.”

How many times had he been wounded before and never said a thing ?

You could tell that he would brush this off and ignore the injury so he could continue his work with the Green Knight “Come with me to the infirmary. I will see if I can help with that.”

He was used to cuts and bruises, a variety of injuries had caused a variety of scars.

Of course the Ash Man politely declined “You fainted last night, y/n. I will not give you more work.”

It seemed like you needed to be a little more persuasive, taking a step closer, your hand curled around one of his “Let me take a look at your arm, Ash Man.”

You held your intertwined hands close to your body.

That different tone in your voice made it very difficult to decline the offer again.

With a hard swallow and timid nod he accepted the help offered.

He did not say a word while following you to the infirmary, you blamed it on him not being used to accepting help from others.

After entering the infirmary with him, you patted a hand on the cot, signaling for him to sit down.

Used to offering patients help, you treated him no different “Need a hand to undress ?”

He mentally scolded himself for almost lying.

Mildly distracted, he took off his, cloak, aketon and then carefully the linen shirt.

You sat next to him to inspect the damage, the wound had indeed been cleaned well but it would not heal properly without stitches “I need to sew it shut. Otherwise it will hurt for months before it heals.”

Pain was no stranger to him, the prolonged healing process of wounds was often a punishment to himself for even getting injured in battle.

Without meaning to question your healing skills, he did feel the need to inquire “Have you ever done so before ?”

Quietly you muttered “Once or twice.”

Perhaps he should have declined the offer and just let the wound heal on his own. But you had his hand resting on your lap while you were focused on his arm and he considered the pain of having his skin sewed back together a fair trade for it.

With a grin, he decided to jest “As long as my ear is not attached to my arm after this.”

You gave him a playful push “I’ll sew your mouth shut if you’re not careful.”

He quirked a brow “Pardon ?”

He heard but wanted to see if you would dare say it again.

You repeated louder “I said, I’ll sew your mouth shut if I hear you question my skills again.”

A look over his shoulder was aimed at you accompanied with a lopsided grin “Is this how you treated all of your patients ? Threatening them ?”

Your eyes must have sparkled from the fun you were having “No. Just you.”

Still grinning, he questioned it “Just me ?” then clicked his tongue “Is this for laughing at your unfortunate encounter with a spider yesterday ?”

You prepared a needle and thread, then got to work “Quiet. Don’t distract me or that needle could end up doing more damage.”

The jest rolled out of his mouth “You are less frightening with a sword.”

It earned a glare from you “I’m going to pretend you did not just say that.”

Stitching the wound on the back of his arm wasn’t so simple, it ran horizontally over it. Still you did your best and even though you had threatened him with the needle you were very careful not to hurt him.

It also caught your attention that there were no fresh scars on his back.

After finishing closing the wound up, you lightly ran a hand across his back “They are better…”

He quietly said “I stopped.”

With a squeeze to his shoulder you showed your support, this was good news, it meant his mental state was improving.

He must have found another way to process difficult matters.

You got up for a moment and grabbed the bowl with ointment while opening the subject on Father Carden “How are you handling the news of his death ?”

It was not necessary to ask who you had meant “I handled it.”

You doubted that it was as easy as he pretended it to be “You never speak of him anymore.”

He countered it with “You do not speak of your parents either unless I ask about them.”

True, neither of you had fond memories with parental figures in your lives.

He had never thought that he would react so numb to the news that Father had died and yet he had. It was only weeks later that mourning began. Anger, hatred, sadness, guilt… he felt all of it and carried it in silence. No one here would like to hear how he mourned the death of someone who had caused such pain to so many.

But you had been with him during his darkest times, maybe you would listen “I gave my whole life to him, to what he believed in. And I will never see a day where I do not carry the guilt on my shoulders for it.”

You put some ointment on your fingertips and gently smeared it on the wound “And still you mourn him.”

You knew…

He fought back the tremble in his voice and the tears that dared to form “What does that make me ?”

Did he expect that you would call him a monster for this ? “Compassionate.”

Your stomach sank when he leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, he was truly struggling with this.

Unexpectedly, he apologized “I am so sorry, y/n.”

It confused you greatly “You don’t have to apologize, Lancelot.”

He forced himself to breath, to stay in control of his emotions “Father did this to our people. To you and even to me. I should hate him-”

The guilt he felt for mourning Father Carden must have been tearing him apart inside, his own empathy causing him to feel this way.

Without thinking, you carefully wrapped your arms around his arm and leaned close to his ear “I want you to know that mourning someone who you have known all your life is normal. It proves that you have empathy, even if it is for someone like Father Carden. It’s admirable even. Someone has to pray for the wicked, for they can’t do it themselves anymore.”

There was truth in that…

His head tilted a little, just enough to feel your forehead against his temple, eyes held shut until his tears would dry “Will this stay between us ?”

You scrambled some courage together and brushed a hand over the back of his neck to sooth him “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

God… your fingers moving over his neck made him want to lean back into them more.

The content hum however was not something he wanted to emit.

At the sound of it you drew back your hand and those Ash Folk eyes locked on yours.

There was an intensity in them now that made your heart want to leap up a hill.

With your gaze dropping to your lap, you informed “I’ll bandage your arm now. I fear your shirt is ruined though…”

Blood on white linen for so long would be near impossible to remove.

That innocent, shy expression and reaction you still had to him…

The atmosphere between you had made a palpable shift again.

In the laden silence you covered his wound by tying a fresh clean piece of linen around it.

He waited patiently until you were finished “Thank you.”

A quiet response “You’re welcome.” before rising to your feet and crossing the room to the chest with spare clothing ‘found’ by the raiders “I think there might be a shirt in here that will fit you.”

You sat down on your knees to search through it and heard the sound of his boots moving over the wooden floor as he neared you.

Just when he stopped beside you, you found a shirt.

He held a hand out to you and you believed it was for the shirt so you handed it to him.

He moved it to his other hand and kept holding out his hand.

Staring up at him, you sheepishly placed your hand in his and let him help you rise to your feet.

He held on to your hand “There is something else I wish to tell you.”

You waited for him to do so when the door flung open.

Pym was helping a raider drag another raider into the room “Ugh, bollocks ! Gavin stepped on his own trap again.”

Both your attention dropped to the raider’s leg.

Why on earth had they not removed the metal device from his foot before bringing him here ??? How was this raider so calm ??

Lancelot put the shirt on, rolled his eyes while grabbing his sword and going over to the raider to open the metal device up.

It only took him a few seconds to set the raider free.

“Ha ! Thank you !” The raider gave him a grateful pat on the shoulder and then proceeded to almost fall over.

You were quick to help the idiot and got him to the cot with both Pym and Lancelot’s help.

“Wanna help with this ?” Pym asked, pointing at the gruesome sight.

With a nod you agreed to help “Of course.”

You did take a moment to say something to Lancelot “Is it alright if we talk later ? I know there was still something you wanted to talk to me about.”

With a nod and tilt of his head he acknowledged it and left the infirmary so you could focus on the injured raider.

  oooOoOOoOOOOOoOOoo

  Close to evening, there was something that had reached your ears thanks to the Green Knight.

Percival was cleaning out the stables.

Percival…

Cleaning…

It sounded so unlikely that you had to go and see it for yourself.

Upon arriving at the stables, Lancelot stood outside and kept an eye on the working boy.

It looked so unbelievable and once you got the Ash Man’s attention, you gestured at Percival “Lancelot…is he cleaning these stables ?”

He only gave a nod.

Now that he was here, you brought up your earlier conversation “Earlier, in the infirmary, what was it that you wanted to tell me ?”

This was not the time or place…

His sights darted from you, to Percival who had not yet seen that you were there too “I wanted to tell you that…” the pause almost took too long “-that I appreciate how I can confide in you regarding my past.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that he looked quite nervous all of a sudden “Oh. Alright, I see. Never be afraid to speak of what troubles you, I know how difficult it has been for you. If I can carry half or all of your burdens, I would.”

His restless hands were folded behind his back, sight falling on you from the corner of his eyes “The sentiment is mutual.”

You hummed and smiled “Tell me, why is Percival the one cleaning the stables now ?”

Instantly he straightened his back “If he can steal-…” he corrected “If he can ‘borrow’ Goliath without my permission, then he should know how to care for him.”

This had been a punishment for the boy’s ‘crime’ “He took your horse ?”

He had been upset, yet impressed with the boy’s ability to ride Goliath alone “I could not find Goliath or Percival an hour or two ago. I was not surprised when they returned together.”

Soft laughter fell from you “He wants to be just like you.”

There was a slight frown forming “I could not say by how he often speaks to me. Sometimes I believe he considers me a nuisance.”

You felt sympathy for the fragile heart of the Ash Man that the child could apparently trample over “Aw, don’t think that. If he really didn’t like you then he wouldn’t be running after you all the time.”

It slipped from his tongue “Spoken from experience ?”

You side-eyed him “What are you trying to say ?”

He wasn’t backing down from messing with you a little “We run into each other an awful lot.”

You stated the obvious “We sleep in the same building.”

He cocked his head arrogantly “Still.”

While feigning a sweet tone, you jested “What do you want me to tell you, Ash Man ? That I spend my days finding excuses to run into you.”

With a lopsided grin, he acknowledged your sarcasm “So defensive. I never insinuated that I meant you. Perhaps I was speaking of myself.”

It could have meant he was the one finding excuses to speak to you so much, but you had responded like you were the one guilty of it.

Your eyes narrowed at the trap you had stepped into “Admit it, you arrogant twit, you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend my time with you.”

He only hummed, like it was not the certain fact that it was.

At that moment a mixture of dirty straw and other things landed a few inches from Lancelot’s boots.

Your focus snapped to the young Fey Knight who was innocently shoveling the dirty stable clean.

He looked down at his boots and then back to the boy.

At least it had not been thrown against him, there was progress being made.

After waiting for a scolding to be given to the boy, you realized none would come from Lancelot “You’re so afraid he won’t like you anymore if you scold him for it. Aren’t you ?”

He held his tongue, it wasn’t far from the truth.

You called over to the boy all of a sudden “Percival.”

The boy stopped shoveling and looked back at you “Y/n ?”

Without shame, you told the boy what Lancelot would never tell him “Lancelot fears you might hate him or grow to hate him.”

He could not believe you had just told the boy like this.

The Ash Man opened his mouth but failed to find the words.

Percival looked at the two of you like you had gone mad and dropped the shovel “What ?” the boy approached the Ash Man as if it had been a grave insult “Why would you think that ?!?”

Both of you were taken rather aback by the defensive stance of the boy.

He looked to you for help, before understanding that it would be best to handle this himself.

After a soft nudge from your elbow, he confessed to the waiting boy “You cursed at me when I told you to clean Goliath’s stable.”

There was some frustration from Percival who had always been used to little or no supervision “You wouldn’t let me ride Goliath ! You’re always bossing me around !”

He expected the reply “I only want what is best for you. I do understand that you will not always be happy with the choices I make to ensure a better future for you. I hope, in time, you will forgive me for the flaws in my attempt.”

Percival was calmer, it had sounded like the Ash Man was determined to stick around and help him through life, quietly uttering “I don’t hate you.”

Slowly Lancelot knelt down in front of Percival “I would understand if you did.”

The boy wasn’t having it “I don’t.”

He explained why he disliked how the boy had rode Goliath beyond his knowledge “You are brave, and you are still quite young and growing. I feared you would fall off Goliath and break your neck. I would never forgive myself for not having been there to help.”

Now Percival understood the reason he had been punished and tasked with cleaning the stable, he quietly risked asking “Can I ride Goliath if you’re with me ?”

Lancelot thought for a moment, then answered “Finish cleaning the stable. I will let you ride Goliath but I will hold the reins and walk beside you. Agreed ?”

There was eager nodding from Percival as he agreed to the terms.

He rose from the ground, ushering the boy to complete the task “Go on then. Off you go.”

This time Percival was more enthusiastic to clean the stable.

It was only when he rose to his feet again that he noticed he had knelt down right in the dirt the boy had tossed at his feet minutes ago.

You were quick to notice and failed to stop yourself from laughing at the sight of it.

With a deep disgruntled sigh, he tried to brush off the dirt from his trousers as much as possible.

You reached out and gave his arm a squeeze, rubbing it a little “Well done, Lancelot.”

It was endearing to see him slowly but surely open up to others, especially towards the feisty child.

There was that boyish smile again and seeing it warmed your chest.

Then he slowly and discreetly moved a hand to your own, fingers hooking around yours loosely.

You were the one who went ahead and clasped your hand around his.

A squeeze from him…

A squeeze from you…

He uttered a heartfelt “Thank you.”

How in heaven’s name could it be that the sparkle you had in your eyes now could cause his heart to jump in joy ?

After you nodded, he let go off your hand before it would draw the boy’s attention.

You didn’t even realize you were staring at him for a moment “How is your arm ?”

He clasped his hands behind his back again, it was the only way to keep them still “It burns less.”

It was a relief to hear “That means the ointment is working.”

With a tilt of the head, he silently asked you to step out off the stables with him, of course you followed.

He walked at a slow pace, remaining near the stables “Have you had any more trouble with your parents ?”

It dawned on you that neither your mother or father had hounded you today “No. It’s odd. Maybe they finally listened to Gawain ?”

He kept a neutral expression, only his brow arched slightly “Perhaps. Let us hope. Will you tell me if anything arises again ?”

With a nod and grateful smile, you responded “I will. Thank you, Lancelot.”

Right then, he had to take a step to the side as a woman walked past him.

The brunette with luscious curling locks send him a look that could not be mistaken by anyone, and a smile that could enamor the coldest of hearts.

You didn’t expect or like the strong gnawing feeling it gave to your self-confidence.

Pym had been right about him catching the attention from others…

It distracted you so badly that you hadn’t even heard him speak just now.

He halted “Y/n ?”

It took you a second to realize he must have said or asked something “Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t hear what you said.”

Mildly concerned, he repeated what had costed him so much courage to say just even once “I am glad you feel better after last night. You look better.”

There was something else he had muttered half under his breath and you couldn’t decipher it “Excuse me ?”

It took so much to say it louder “You look…” he wanted to scold himself for being so cowardice, then finally voiced openly “Stunning.”

Your foot hit an uneven spot of grass and you lost your balance, thankfully he caught your elbow to prevent a fall.

Had he ever even complimented your appearance before ?

He let go when you regained your balance.

You never saw it coming “Stunning ?”

After weeks in Gramaire, you looked healthier and more lively. You smiled more and radiated a social warmth that drew people to you.

Living here made it possible to have proper meals and a chance to rest. All of it benefited to a healthier life.

And yes, it strengthened the beauty that you already had. He had seen it and knew others noticed too.

That raider had been one of the many that were starting to have attention for you.

And the thought that you were catching the eyes of others…

Even now, while walking beside him, he could see them turn their heads to look again.

If he was to tell you of his affection, what better way to start then by making it known that he was not insensitive to your appearance too ?

If he had once been brave enough to tell you he desired you, this should not be much harder.

Desire, lust…it had grown into what he felt now.

With a tilt of the head, he confirmed his words “Being here has done you well. I can see how your health has improved.”

It was understandable, when first meeting him you had been starving and wore torn clothes.

Now you had better access to water, food and a warm place to sleep with an actual bed “You look healthier too. Not as tired. And some color to your cheeks.”

Not pale and so terribly haunted by what had troubled him when he was with Father Carden.

No, he looked good. Stronger, healthier and calmer. And most importantly, happier.

That color on his cheeks intensified when you returned the compliment with a cheeky smirk “Very handsome. As always.”

Beyond his control, his gaze swiftly moved over your form until it locked on your face.

As always ?

Percival ran out off the stables and found the Ash Man outside with you, shouting excitedly “I am finished !”

You gestured to the waiting Percival “I should let you go and keep your promise to the boy. He looks very happy for someone who was just shoveling through dirt for an hour.”

He gave a nod but ended up catching your arm before you could fully walk away.

You looked back at him, saw him hesitate…

His fingers glided down your arm as they released it, leaving you with some advice “Do not forget to drink enough today. Water, not ale.”

You scoffed “Thanks. I will.”

He send a smug smirk as you walked off.

Taglist:

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#weeping monk reader #the weeping monk x reader #weeping monk x reader #weeping monk fanfiction #weeping monk #theweepingmonk #lancelot #lancelot x reader #lancelot/reader #reader x lancelot #you x weeping monk #you x lancelot #lancelot reader #Cursed Netflix #cursed #netflix cursed #cursed squirrel #daniel sharman #daniel sharman character #cursed lancelot #arthur #green knight #percival #you

[hiatuswhore]

𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙 𝕤𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕝 𝕝𝕝 — 𝕥𝕔

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Word Count: 2.2K

SUMMARY: Ugh, high school. Best four years of nothing. Raging mood swings and sporadic acne. All on top of balancing mean girls, douche bag guys, and cocky jocks. Best four years? Yikes image peaking in high school.

“Oh come on (Y/n). It’s a party, you don’t have to wear something scandalous but at least something cute. What do you think of this?” Marina holds up a tank top so sheer I can practically see her through it. She mirrors my confusion as we both stare at each other.

“What the hell is that?” I ask. Ivy glances up from her phone but only chuckles and looks back down.

“In what universe did you think (Y/n) would wear that Mina?” Ivy says as Marina exclaims it is only a camisole. Nodding my head I raise an eyebrow at her until she puts the shirt down.

“How about this one? Simple dark crop-top you can pair it with some jeans and jewelry. Super cute and comfortable,” Marina gives the shirt a wiggle for emphasis and pairs it with a big smile. I only grimace, what’s wrong with sweats and cropped sweaters? She sighs turning back to her bag in defeat, she has more clothes in the bag but she stuffs her two shirts away, “Fine but I heard Declan’s going to be there tonight.”

“Having this information would only be useful if (Y/n) would just take a breath and talk to him. Hell freezing over is more likely than that,” Ivy focuses on her eyeliner as she pulls no punches from my direction. Marina huffs Ivy’s name in a patronizing tone as we both stare at her.

“Do you always have to be a bitch?” I ask, rolling my eyes and she pauses as if she thinks it over, before nodding her head. We fall back into a comfortable silence with ease, sitting on Ivy’s words she’s not wrong. Every time I try to speak to Declan, I freeze—or in the wise words of Cady Heron, word vomit. “I think I will stick to my beloved grey sweats and drum roll please.”

“Oh no,” Ivy says, laying across my bed resting her head in hand while Marina sits on my beanbag chair forcing a smile.

“Princess and the Frog cropped shirt. Super cute and screams me,” I say, relishing in how they both shake their heads at my plain outfit choice.

“You should listen to your friends lovey. Vintage is back right? I have some super cute mom jeans from the nineties. Want me to get them out of the attic for you?” My mom beams in the doorway, I see her more excited at the prospect of me going to a party than my all A report cards.

“It could be super cute with this crop top,” Marina says, taking the black crop top from her bag. My mom squeals with excitement before disappearing down the hall.

“Not necessary Mom my outfits chosen,” I call out but she ignores me as I hear the ladder fall. Marina and Ivy giggle at my mothers excitement, I groan knowing I will now spend the next hour bickering with her about the jeans.

“I have such a crush on your Mom,” Ivy says, ignoring her comment I pull my hoodie over my head before switching into the princess and the frog shirt. The loose shirt pairs well with my sweatpants and I am ready for the party I plan to stay at for two hours max.

The next three hours consist of my mother trying to convince me to wear the jeans, Marina trying to put makeup on me, and Ivy being Ivy. On our way out of the door my dad reminds me of my curfew and if anything they can come get us if need be.

Mackenzie’s house is large. The room reeks of cheap perfumes, weed, and beer. I cringe at the loud music and packed living room. My parents would kill me if I did this to our house. Ivy and Marina are greeted by several of our peers with enthusiasm, my hellos feel as though they are tapered onto the end out of courtesy.

“I think there’s more space in the back to dance,” Marina says, locking arms we all work our way through the house to discover an even more ridiculous backyard. From the large in ground pool to the granite floors—I am undoubtedly in awe. Scanning the crowd I see no sight of Declan.

“Come dance with us,” Ivy says as Marina pulls an imaginary rope toward herself from my direction. I shake my head reminding them that I do not dance.

“Yeah you do,” Marina grabs my wrist pulling me in between both herself and Ivy. I stick out like a sore stiff thumb with them dancing around me. Ivy’s fiery look makes the swaying of her hips sexy, Marina’s ethereal look makes her enchanting as she moves as if no else matters. I look foolish as I grimace and bop like something constricts every muscle in my body.

“I’ve seen you dance (Y/n) let loose, you're a great dancer,” Ivy says, reminding her there is a huge difference between here and my bedroom. I take two steps back from them still just barely moving to the music.

“Oh wow all this dancing really tired me out. I’m going to find a drink,” I hear them both scoff at my exit but neither of them follow me inside. The music is somehow ten times louder inside and I work my way toward the kitchen with ease. I fill a red solo cup with cranberry juice and a little bit of vodka while pecking at the open bag of potato chips.

“Glad I’m not the only one looking for snacks,” My throat sinks to my stomach as I look over my left shoulder. Declan reaches down grabbing a chip looking down at me. I fail to shake the shock and at this point I am just staring at him. “Earth to (Y/n).”

“Uh sorry I um—yeah,” Why am I such an idiot? He chuckles asking me if I am having fun. Scratching the back of my neck I cringe almost on instinct, “I guess.”

He chuckles again, wetting his lips as he leans down toward me. What the hell? My heart is hammering as if it wants to jump out of my chest, “Between you and me. I’m not having much fun either.”

I let out a laugh as he leans back up and grabs a few more chips. Still I have not completed a single sentence since he joined me. Taking a deep breath I fiddle with my fingers. My mind races to think of something to say as I try to calm my nerves before speaking up. “I—“

Before I can speak Evan Meisters at Declan’s side pulling him off to join the other football players. My shoulders fall in defeat as I scold myself for once again getting in my own head.

“Double-A were running low on snacks?” Closing my eyes I know Timothèe stands behind me with a shit eating grin and something stupid to say. “You look very underdressed for a food station attendant.”

“Very funny,” Rolling my eyes he takes my cup from my hands and brings it to his lips.

“Vodka cran. Very classy,” He says, smirking as he continues my drink.

“You keep up and I’m going to think you have a crush on me Chalamet,” I say and he holds my gaze as he finishes my cup.

“You think poking fun of you is how I flirt?” He asks. Given the lack of originality it would not shock me if that is how he flirts. We both know I am kidding but a glint sits in his eyes that makes me shift but I cannot let him see me falter. He closes the space between us and chuckles playing with the hem of my shirt. “Wanna get out of here?”

I cannot lie. For a second—scratch that a millisecond the white button up, blue jeans, and gold chain was doing something. I flick his forehead before pouring myself another drink. His laughters non stop as he joins me in making himself another drink.

“Your ladies look amazing out there, have either of them asked about me?” He asks, taking a sip of my drink he does the same as we linger by the snacks and drink table.

“When I told them you were here I could practically hear their ovaries exploding. Marina’s eyes glowed like—like fairies and Ivy wept thanking the heavens for the opportunity to be in your presence. It was so powerful that they just started dancing together,” He laughs at my mocking tone, calling me insufferable. Any chance of me enjoying this party drains as Bianca joins Timothèe's side.

“Hey B what’s up?” He says nonchalantly and I frown, how the hell could he not worry about their interactions. The two of them hooking up is a ticking time bomb just waiting to erupt.

“Want to hang out later?” She asks, tilting her head forward, her dark hair frames her face making her dark eyes more noticeable. She’s wearing a dark crop top and denim skirt with waist beads.

“Tempting but I can’t tonight I have to help my mom move some furniture early in the morning,” My head whips toward him as the words leave his lips. If Bianca did not treat me as a ghost she would see my face and know he was lying. Bianca sighs and stalks off into the party leaving Timothèe to avoid my gaze.

“Um, why not just say no?” I ask, glazing over the comment about his mother he seems thankful for it.

“It’s never that simple. They always find a way around my no. I think I would need to have a girlfriend for them to back off,” He says, finishing my cup I shrug muttering that he should find a girlfriend then before leaving him at the table.

I leave the party without Ivy and Marina, it’s only a fifteen minute well lit walk to which I text them proof of life while in my bedroom. Turning on Project Runway, I make a bowl of popcorn and cozy up on the couch. I get through half an episode before knocking on the back glass door makes me flinch. It is faint and the porch lights are off—they are motion sensors. Tensing up I consider screaming for my parents to come down as the house grows eerily quiet. I almost do as Timothèe’s face appears in the kitchen window, he points toward the back door before disappearing.

“Are you insane?” I whisper letting him into the house. I turn the tv back on as a smokescreen. My parents would not care if they found Timothèe in the house but I still have no desire to wake them and be pestered with questions about the party.

“Love this episode by the way and you are a genius. I need your help getting Mackenzie and Bianca off my back,” He speaks fast and the smile on his lips tells me whatever he is about to say is going to idiotic. “Let’s pretend we are feeling each other and might date.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” I ask snatching my bowl of popcorn from his fingers as he helps himself.

“First I’m your best friend,” He says, holding up his hands gesturing to the many pictures on the wall of my living room. Timothèe’s and I are in a large amount of them together. Even his soccer photos reside on our fridge, my mom loves him.

“First friend,” I point out and he flips me off while stealing another piece of popcorn.

“Second, we can so pull off having chemistry. People mistake friendships for more all the time. Last I can help you get with Declan Knight,” Narrowing my eyes I scrunch my nose and he continues, “If we start hanging out people are going to ask questions. Girls are not the only ones who gossip, the guys are going to want to know why (Y/n) Acevedo. Then I tell them how cool you secretly are.”

“Just because we are hanging out does not mean that is going to draw Declan’s interest in me,” I point out, nodding his head. I wait for the shoe to drop knowing there is no way this plan carries out without something I do not like.

“Okay we are going to have to do a little bit of a look change,” He says, laying back on the couch I let out a long sigh.

“How different?” I ask and he bites his bottom lip grimacing at my cat pajama pants and SpongeBob shirt. “Seriously it’s that bad?”

“You have uni-boob, your posture sucks, and your comfy looks would look better if you put more effort into your hair” He lists off without a care and my jaw drops.

“How the hell did you get into Project Runway?”

“Remember the day you kicked me out because I thought you were depressed but you were actually just being extremely lazy?” Nodding my head I remembered I kept telling him to stop looking in my window. Yes I had been Project Runway all weekend and not leaving my room unless it was to pee but still. “I got curious how you could watch it so religiously but then I fell deep into that rabbit hole for a couple of days. So are you in?”

#timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet fanfiction #timothée imagine #timothée chalamet au #timothée fanfic #Timothée Chalamet x reader #timothée x reader #shelly hennig #diana silvers #daniel sharman #camila mendes #lili reinhart

[the-most-faithful]

The fact that your fancast for Caradoc Dearborn is Aaron is such a personal thing to me. Silently this is also a slap (absolutely deserved) to James Potter. That bully doesn't deserve Aaron's face. I wait for the day when your fanfiction and fancast becomes popular

Wow thanks so much. For me Caradoc/Byron has always been Aaron, ever since the fanficiton was just an idea. when I saw that he was becoming the fancast for James I turned up my nose. The edits made with him and the Maladnrini are wonderful, really, but for me he will always be Byron. Although I must admit that I'm also doing some testing with Daniel Sharman. Let's say that as a "second choice" it's not bad.

#byron white fanfiction #marauders era #harry potter fanfiction #the most faithful #the most faithful fanfiction #byron white coded #caradoc dearborn is canon #caradoc dearborn fanfiction #cradoc dearborn fancast